


This Is Still America

by thatbitch11



Series: This is Still America [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drug Dealing, Eating Disorders, Established rusame, Mental Health Issues, Multi, On and Off FrUk, Punk England (Hetalia), Recreational Drug Use, Russian Mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-18 19:40:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 54,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20644586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatbitch11/pseuds/thatbitch11
Summary: Seventeen year old Amelia, a care free drug dealer in an inner city, lets others take care of her life problems. Meanwhile, her dad, and his partner Francis, pick up the pieces as she makes increasingly bad decisions, including dating the son of a Russian mob boss.But what's the point of being young without some trouble?





	1. RTA Mobsters

**Author's Note:**

> This fic takes place in the east side of Cleveland, and is specific to that area.  
I've never seen a fic that takes place in America that isn't set in a perfect suburban setting, which is inaccurate for many people, so I decided to I guess show that there's more than that!
> 
> You can find art and playlists related to this fic at r/thisisstillamericaart on reddit.

Sirens blared in the distance as Matthew walked home from school, scarcely heard over the music from his earbuds. He turned the corner to his house, and nodded at his neighbor Amelia, who was smoking on the porch. She nodded back at him, giving him a fist bump and taking another drag. 

“Want some?”

Matthew took the joint from her fingers, and took a puff, smiling at her and unlocking his side of the duplex.

“Pussy” Amelia said under her breath when he closed the door, and took her phone out. She scrolled through aimlessly for a while, and set it face down on the arm of the chair.

The last days of the short Cleveland summer were upon them, and she was hell bent on making the best of it. Across the street, she saw the candy lady setting up shop for kids leaving school, and went over.

“Aye MiMi! You want the regular?” The large middle aged woman with dreads asked as she approached, to which she nodded, and leaned against the shaky porch railing. She watched as the woman got out a pickle and put it in a bag, then put a heavy handed scoop of shave ice in a large styrofoam cup, and put both on the table.

Amelia put the joint behind her ear, fished a dollar out of the pocket of her shorts, and put it on the old card table. She looked over the water bottles of syrup as she held the cup of ice, trying to read the handwriting on the labels of the brightly colored liquids.

“Damn you got new flavors?Okay okay I see you.” The teen joked as she picked up the blue raspberry and strawberry lemonade bottles, pouring a liberal amount of both into her cup. She waved at the candy lady as she walked away, passing a couple of neighborhood kids on their way home from school. Her phone vibrated in her back pocket, and she groaned, irritated that she had to wait until her hands weren’t full to answer it. Once she reached her porch, she set the cup down, taking a bite out of the garlic pickle as she checked her phone. Abel and Gil were blowing up their group chat, which made her roll her eyes as she continued eating.

Two texts caught her attention though. 

_aye meli ivan here _

_he said yall were pose to link today _

She went inside and put her cup of shave ice in the freezer, grabbing her purse and headed toward the abandoned house the group hung out at and used as a grow op.

“I hope to fuck this actually important, I could be eating a shave ice right now.” Amelia shouted as she walked in, only finding Gil laughing hysterically. She stopped in her tracks and shot him a glare, pursing her lips.

“He ain’t even here is he?”

Gil shook his head, laughing harder.

“Abel, you let this shit happen?”

He nodded as he came down the stairs, cracking a smile. 

“He was right bout that getting you here quick though.”

She glared up at him as well, putting her hands on her hips.

“Well y’all already got me here, what you need?”

“I got a ton of fakes for dumb ass white people,you and Gil gotta ship them.” He explained, motioning to a stack of thick envelopes sitting on their table in what was the foyer once upon a time. 

“I don’t know if you noticed, but _ all three of us _ white bro.” Gil jokingly complained, turning over one of the envelopes in his hands.

“Wait, I thought you was done with the IDs? I told people to stop callin you ID man ‘cuz you don’t do em anymore.” Amelia said accusingly, to which Abel shrugged.

“Shit was profitable, what can I say.”

“Look at him using them big ass words, _ profitable _.” Gil laughed, swiping the forgotten joint from behind Amelia’s ear, and lighting it.

“Crackhead.”She muttered, looking at him in disdain.

He gave her a look that said ‘so?’, and blew the smoke in her direction. She gave him the finger through the smoke, coughing a bit.

“You’re actually bout to pay us this time right? Last time you was having me walk in there with my titties all out you ain’t even pay me.”

“My bad, my bad.” He said apathetically, suddenly interested in his nails.

“What about hoe ass shorts? Those ones you got with flags on the pockets.” He continued, to which Amelia gave him a mild look of disgust.

“You gotta start payin me right, or else Bullshit gotta be the one walking up in the post office with his ass out.” She laughed a bit as she said this, watching the other two give her a nasty look.

“Aye Gil lemme see what you working with here.” The teen said teasingly, twirling a finger in the air to motion for him to turn around.

“My guy at the post ain’t gay, cut that shit out.” Abel said in an annoyed tone.

“They close at four, both of y’all better get over there.”

Begrudgingly, Gil and Amelia headed to the post office a couple neighborhoods away, after making a detour at Amelia’s house to retrieve her shave ice. Both flashed their bus passes, and sat down as the bus whizzed through the city. They were silent most of the ride, one of the only sounds being Amelia’s spoon crunching into the cup of ice. A man got on the bus, and Gil’s eyes got wide.

“_Shit _ it’s one the Italians.” He hissed, putting his hood over his head, and shoving his envelopes into her bag. She rolled her eyes, taking a bite of her shave ice.

“We going through little Italy, obviously we gonna pick a couple of ‘em up.”

She chuckled to herself.

“They broke asses really out here on a lil RTA huh.”

Gil looked like he was trying not to laugh, putting a hand over his mouth, and lowering his head. The man in the suit glared at her as he sat down, stiffly pushing his sunglasses down his nose as he looked at both of them in the eyes.

“That shit fresh, what’s that, Armani?” Amelia said nonchalantly, earning her side eye from the man across from her.

“That bus pass fresh as hell too.” Gil added, making both of them peel with laughter.

“You ghetto brats need to respect your goddamn elders.” The man said coldly,crossing his legs.

“Dating Braginsky’s son doesn’t protect you from anything. Miss Amelia Felicity Jones, born July fourth, 2002. Social security number-”

Amelia interrupted him.

“It’s Amelia _ Fiona, _ y’all suck at this.”

The man stuttered angrily for a few seconds, and the two teens got up.

“Get you a Louis wallet for that bus pass, with yo’ broke ass.” Amelia said over her shoulder as her and Gil got off the bus, making the man visibly angrier.

They laughed hysterically the rest of the walk to the post office, both in tears by the time they got there.

“The mob really got budget cuts out here, la cosa bus-tra.”

Gil wheezed at this, leaning on a pole outside the building to collect himself. Amelia fanned herself with one of the envelopes for a couple of seconds, before taking a deep breath and walking inside.

She sauntered up to the counter, and leaned on it.

“Can you tell Ja’Myron that his girl here to see him?” She asked the bored looking woman behind the glass, who nodded, and mumbled something into her walkie talkie. Abel’s guy came out from the back a few seconds later, smiling at both teens.

“Hey baby, you lookin good today.” He purred, hugging Amelia, and grabbing her butt. She pinched him, glaring upwards. She put her hand on the back of his neck, and brought it down to her height.

“This ain’t what he meant when he said to make it look real.” She hissed in his ear, kissing him on the cheek, and passing off the plastic bag of envelopes to him. He accepted the bag, and smiled down at her. She waved as her and Gil walked out, shivering in mild disgust once she was back outside.

“That dude real life need some coochie, grabbing on me like that.” She said with disgust dripping from her voice.

“You looked ready to swing bro, on some real shit.” Gil said with a shrug as they walked side by side.

“Cuz I was, Abel owe me some food for making me deal with that creep.”

“Good luck getting anything outta him, you might get you a couple hot chips.” He only half joked, both of them being familiar with how stingy Abel was.

She shook her head at this, sitting down at the bus stop. 

She looked up when Gil poked her thigh, and saw the man in the suit once again, looking at them from an abandoned parking lot across the street. Amelia cursed under her breath, pulling out her phone and taking a picture of him. She texted the picture to Ivan, and flipped off the mobster.

Gil put his head in his hands at this.

“You boutta fuck with the wrong dude and die one these days Meli.” 

“That’s why I’m with Ivan.” She said nonchalantly, seeing that he’d texted her back.

_godammit _

_talk abt it over dinner? _

She rolled her eyes at this.

_Any excuse to have takeout I guess. _She thought, not exactly mad at the proposal.

When Arthur got home that night, he took his boots off at the door and stretched, feeling his whole back crack. As he walked toward the stairs so he could shower, he spotted a half empty bucket of fried chicken and a large bag of Popeyes.

Only one person was willing to indulge Amelia’s obsession with fast food like this, nonetheless afford that much of it. His suspicions were confirmed when he climbed the stairs, and saw Amelia and Ivan asleep in her bed. He shook Amelia awake, and stood over the bed with his arms crossed. 

“Care to explain?”

“We was eating good and got sleepy.” She mumbled, pulling the blanket back over her head. Arthur sighed, and yanked the blanket off her head.

“Do you happen to recall me banning you lot sleeping in the same bed in my house?”

“We got you some fish and chips though.” Ivan grumbled sleepily, moving his arms away from Amelia’s waist under the covers.

“I’m not letting you get away with this just because you bought me dinner. One of you is going to have to move.”

Amelia grumbled to herself as she got out of her bed, putting her shorts back on, and kissing Ivan on the forehead as she left the room.

“You trippin dad, we didn’t do anything.”She said over her shoulder as she went down the stairs, and beginning to set up the couch to sleep on. Arthur watched this disapprovingly from the stairwell, and decided he’d had enough.

“Amelia, just sleep in my bed tonight yeah? I’ll take the couch, go to bed.” He said, yawning at the end. She turned around in the kitchen.

“Over my dead body are you gonna sleep on the couch after working for twelve hours.”She said snarkily, grabbing a plate and a few pieces of chicken. Walking over to Arthur, she glared up at his position on the stairs.

“Go to your own bed dad, c’mon.”

“If I wake up to find you and Ivan in the same bed, the Braginsky’s are about to have a funeral to plan, you hear?”

“Yeah, sure, good night.”She said, rolling her eyes, and beginning to eat one of the pieces. Her dad gave her a worried look.

“Amelia, watch how much fried food you eat, yeah? It can’t be good for you to have so much of it.”

“You been talking to Francis again huh? I know you ain’t out here taking diet advice from someone like that.” She said bitterly, following Arthur with her eyes as he walked up the stairs, having given her an exasperated sigh as a response.

While he was happy to find Amelia still on the couch when he woke up the next morning, but was less happy about the nearly empty bucket of chicken sitting on the table next to her.

Making a mental note to talk to her when he got home from work, he began making himself breakfast. Tonight was a good night to go next door for dinner it seemed, as the kitchen was nearly empty save for a few honeybuns and the leftovers from the takeout Ivan had bought the night prior.

He begrudgingly took one of the honeybuns and got ready, leaving Amelia a note on the refrigerator of chores that he wanted done while he was gone. Not that they would get done, but a man could hope. 

Amelia nonchalantly threw the note away when she woke up, frowning at seeing the refrigerator empty. As she made herself a cup of overly sugary tea and had her morning cigarette, she thought about anything she could do about it. It was the last week of the month after all, and the two of them always ended up getting creative.

She went upstairs with the cup of tea in hand, and went to wake Ivan up. After a few minutes of being unsuccessful, she had an idea.

“Vanya wake your ass up.” Amelia said, irritated, as she sat on his back, making him cough for a few seconds.

“Meli, _why_.” He stuttered, sounding breathless. She moved off his back at this, looking at him victoriously. 

“You sleep 'bout heavy as hell, I gotta do what I gotta do.”

He sat up with a yawn.

“And you bout heavy as hell, I thought I was gonna die.”

Amelia scoffed loudly, putting her head in his lap.

“I’m so not, don’t fuck with me like that.”

He exhaled as he ran a hand through her hair.

“Whatever.”

“Get ready to leave though, I want breakfast and y’all got _ nothing _ in this hoe.”

“We doin anything today?” She asked over breakfast at a nearby donut shop, to which he nodded.

“I got something to do in the suburbs today, I assume you wanna come?”

Amelia nodded excitedly, taking another donut from the box in front of them.

“I always practice my shit Russian there.” She laughed, to which Ivan rolled his eyes.

“I’m sittin’ right in front of you hoe. Most Russian dude you know, I got the nose and last name to prove it.”

“Yo’ ass really a walking stereotype huh? You even wearing Adidas right now.”

“Shut that shit Jones, or I’ma make you pay for these donuts.”

She put her hand up in mock surrender.

“My bad bro.”

Amelia always loved the drive to the suburbs with Ivan, half because she loved seeing him dressed up, and half because she loved the car he always used to drive there.

The black Maserati was Ivan’s eighteenth birthday gift, and he treated it like his child. He only drove it for occasions like this, and he didn’t even allow smoking inside of it, which Amelia found ironic due to how much he smoked.

She never minded having to dress up for occasions like this, even though this particular trip was less formal than they normally would be, as this was more of a monthly briefing from what she understood. He was still wearing a lavender pressed button up shirt and black slacks, while she’d agreed to wear a gingham black and white sundress.

Amelia had been scolded for gelling down her baby hairs, and Ivan, per usual, had begged her to ‘talk suburban’ as he called it, which made both of them laugh. 

They were both Cleveland through and through, regardless of who they were with.

They both toned it down though, mostly for the sake of Ivan’s dad, who even Amelia was scared to death of. The meetings would always take place in one of the large subdivision homes that the area was synonymous with.

The men had a specific room to themselves for said meetings, while wives and girlfriends would either go out and have lunch at one of the many Russian restaurants in the area, or socialize among themselves at the house.

Amelia never minded all of this, as it was a chance to forget about her neighborhood for a while, and she genuinely enjoyed the company of the other girlfriends and wives for the most part.

Arthur didn’t approve of her being so cozy with the Russian mob, but reasoned to himself that it was better than her being involved with gangbangers, as she had been in the past.

Like anything related to Amelia, it was the lesser of two evils.

He got home that night to find that she wasn’t home, and left a note on the refrigerator that she’d be in the suburbs for the night. The Brit sighed when he read the note, and decided to spend the evening at his neighbor’s house instead.

He knocked on the door, and heard Francis yell for Matthew, along with something else in French. The teen opened the door, and smiled at Arthur. 

“Hey! End of the month?” 

The man stuttered angrily for a few seconds before nodding defeatedly. 

“Yeah,Meli won’t be coming though.”

“So I won’t have to make extra?” He heard Francis laugh from inside the house, and Arthur balled up his fists.

“He on his bullshit _bad_, watch out.” Matthew whispered, and the man nodded in understanding. He walked inside and closed his eyes happily at the smell of French potato soup which filled the small house. The only downside though, was Francis himself. 

Especially when he was like this.

He sat down at the circular wooden table and watched as he served up two heaping bowls of creamy soup, sprinkling extra cheese and scallions on top carefully. For the third bowl, he measured out half a cup painstakingly slow, at which Arthur rolled his eyes.

“I thought you were eating again love.” 

Francis turned around angrily.

“You ain’t see me making myself dinner? Unlike you and Amelia, I’m making an attempt to be healthy.” He sneered, bringing the more filled bowls to the table. 

“I’m not about to let you berate Amelia’s weight for your own sickness Francis, sit down and eat for fuck’s sake.” 

He glared at Arthur, but sat down regardless. Matthew came in once he heard that it was silent, and sat down at his usual place across from Francis. Upon seeing his dad’s expression though, he put his earbuds in, and began eating peacefully. Arthur felt awful for the eighteen year old in that moment, and angry that he’d gotten used to this.

For once, he decided to hold his tongue though, and ate the soup in silence. He sat there quietly until Francis was done with his small portion, and stared at him menacingly when he started to stand up. 

“Don’t even think about it.” 

He sat back down with a sigh, putting his head in his hand, and staring blankly at Arthur.

“Lemme guess, you gonna scold me and then make me wait an hour?” 

“I don’t have the energy to scold you tonight.” He said defeatedly, getting up to put both bowls in the sink.

“Just think about Matthew in all this, yeah? Thank you for dinner though.” 

Francis nodded meekly, standing up and walking to the sink next to Arthur. He kissed the younger man on the cheek, and half smiled at him. 

“He’s welcome to stay over anytime if you’re doing poorly, or if you go to hospital,just remember that.” Arthur reminded, and he nodded again, looking down at his socked feet. 

“It means a lot, truly.” 

He squeezed his neighbor’s shoulder reassuringly, trying to ignore how bony it felt beneath the man’s sweater.

“Take care of yourself, I’m glad you ate today.”

* * *

Cleveland/ setting related things to clarify:

RTA- the name of the pubic bus system

The candy lady- Is a ghetto classic, usually an older woman selling snacks cheap on her front porch illegally, sometimes they sell...other types of things too.

Abel being called ID man- If anyone specializes in anything, good or bad, it usually becomes their nickname

The end of the month saga-Food benefits (ebt) are loaded on the first few days of each month, there's a whole lot of struggling ass meals that last week of the month. (i.e different ways to fancy up ramen)

Gangbangers- Run of the mill gang members


	2. House Arrest Blues

August rolled into September, and as the days got colder, Abel amped up his normal operations. 

In addition to his usual weed crop in the abandoned house, and thriving fake ID business, he also began dabbling in selling party drugs. He’d found out the year prior that students at a local university were always asking about those, and aimed to meet their needs. Surprisingly meticulous, he kept Gil in charge of running numbers and essentially keeping his books, while Amelia did his deliveries and put a pretty face who could fight on his operation.

This was disrupted in the best possible way when Gil’s cousin was shipped to Cleveland to straighten him out.

“You really telling me your aunt is shipping your cousin, who in a gang in Germany, to American gang territory? To make him stop doing illegal shit there? That make no kinda sense.” Amelia finally said after a few moments of silence, upon hearing about this. Gil nodded and laughed a little bit.

“It’s so _ stupid _ it’s real life almost funny. I think she just tryna get rid of him for a while.” 

“Dumbass.” Abel agreed, passing the bong to Gil. He nodded in agreement before taking a hit, and leaning further back into the ratty old couch. 

“The hell is he even doing over there? I ain’t even know there was shady shit in Germany, on god.” Amelia asked curiously as she opened up a bag of hot chips.

“He do carjacking mostly, that won’t help us at all bro.”

Abel looked deep in thought, reaching over and taking a few chips from the bag Amelia was eating out of. 

“Ask him if he do anything else, I needa know.”

Gil nodded, and pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his ripped jeans. He sent a message, and put the phone back on his lap.

“Abel the wifi here fuckin blows.” Gil said in exasperation, to which Amelia laughed obnoxiously.

“How many trap houses you know that got bootlegged wifi Gil?”

The albino shrugged.

“It still blows, I don’t care how many got wifi.” 

Gil’s cousin texted back while the trio were stoned out of their minds at the closest Taco Bell. 

The cashiers there bitterly knew the three of them, and placed bets amongst themselves about the next time they were coming in. 

“Aye Montrell you owe me five dollars!” The woman at the counter yelled over her shoulder when they walked in, but the teens ignored it. Per usual, Abel paid for his order, Gil’s, and half of Amelia’s. They had agreed to her paying for half her order a few months prior, as paying for her full order when she had the munchies was bleeding Abel’s group food budget dry.

Once they had paid and were on the bus home, Gil checked his phone, and nearly choked on his quesadilla.

“He said he sell E too, ain’t that what you’re tryna sell to college kids right now?” 

Abel paused mid bite.

“You tellin me he can bring in molly? That European shit _ pure _.”

Gil nodded at this, and began typing quickly, sounding out the German words as he typed.

“Ask bout his prices, then if he’s willing to smuggle.” 

“Ain’t that the first thing you shoulda asked?” Amelia butted in, earning her a glare from the other two. She rolled her eyes and started on another taco, ignoring the other two until they got to their stop. 

They walked into the house, and Gil immediately went to the stolen dry erase board they had hanging on the wall of the old living room. 

Abel and Amelia both watched in mild amusement as he picked up a black marker and began writing furiously, looking at his phone every so often for reference.

“Taco.” He demanded after a few minutes of intense writing, and Amelia laughed loudly before handing him one. He continued with this for a while, standing back to look at the diagram he had drawn on the board.

“Gil all that shit in German, how I'ma understand that?” Abel asked apathetically, wiping his fingers off and taking a large sip of his slushy.

“Fuck.” 

He picked up a red marker this time, translating the neatly written German, and putting the marker behind his ear triumphantly when he finished. 

On the board, Gil had drawn a pricing chart, along with the purity percentages, and the profit margin for mark ups. 

Abel gave a low whistle once he finished reading this, and got up off the couch to fist bump Gil. 

“What percent he want? I can give him up to twenty percent for how much he’s tryna smuggle.” 

“Lemme ask, he’ll probably want a lot since he is smuggling.” 

A few minutes of silence passed as the trio waited anxiously, the only sounds being Amelia chewing, and the MGK song playing from Gil’s phone.

His phone dinged, and Abel looked over the shorter teen’s shoulder excitedly. 

“He said he’ll do ten as long as we pay for his whole life while he’s here. Drugs, food, allat.”

Abel smiled widely, and went upstairs, returning with his clipboard.

“Long as he don’t eat like Amelia, we can do his whole life no problem.” 

Amelia gave him the finger as she reached for another taco from the box.

“He said he’s brought two hundred grams to Sweden before with no problem, but don’t wanna play with Homeland Security, so he’ll bring a hundred fifty max.” 

Abel nodded at this, retrieving his slushy from the couch.

“How much he want for a hundred fifty grams?”

“‘Bout six thousand American,how that sound?”

“Do it. We’ll pay when he show us a full hundred fifty.”

Gil did a few more calculations, and wrote out their final profit in large green letters and circling it, crossing his arms across his chest smugly.

“That’s how much we gettin _ each _ once we sell it all, we’re boutta be eating good.” 

“That’s _ after _ your cousin get his ten percent?” Amelia asked in astonishment, and Gil nodded proudly. 

“If we sell it for ninety a gram, we could make even more than that, you usually sell for eighty five a gram, right?” 

Abel nodded, eyes glazed over with greed. Gil crossed out the number, doing a few more calculations, and writing a new number.

“Then we gettin two thousand seventy five dollars _ each. _”

“Holy fuck.” Amelia and Abel said in unison, looking at each other, and then at Gil. 

Amelia walked into the kitchen and grabbed their bottle of hennessy from the cabinet, climbing on top of the rickety coffee table and holding it up above her head triumphantly.

“This calls for a celebration boys! To Gil’s cousin!” She cheered, taking a long swig out of the bottle, and passing it to Gil, coughing a bit as the alcohol burned her throat.

The rest of the day was a stoned and drunken blur for the trio, only being interrupted by Arthur calling Amelia.

“Where the hell are you?” He hissed into the phone, sucking his teeth when he heard Amelia’s drunken laughter.

“Celebratin’, I’m boutta pay yo’ rent next month daddy.” She cackled, making Arthur go pale on the other end. 

“Get home and sober the hell up Meli, _ now _.” 

“Got me fucked up, I’ma be outta here soon though.” She sighed playfully,making Arthur roll his eyes, and hang up on her. 

His hands shook angrily as he smoked on the porch, watching Amelia’s silhouette stumble down the street towards the house. 

“Amelia Fucking Jones, get the hell in this house.” Arthur shouted as she came closer, to which she laughed maniacally. 

She took a cigarette from the pack he had on the railing, and stumbled inside, sprawling herself out on the couch, and fishing in her pockets for a lighter. She clumsily lit it, and began laughing again when Arthur stormed inside.

“Ain’t you happy bout me payin’ rent?” She said excitedly, smiling from ear to ear.

“Aren’t. And no I don’t want to pay Francis my rent in _ dirty drug money _, how many times have I told you that?” He shouted, face going red.

“Wooow you really trippin out here.” 

“Go to bed Amelia, and bring some water with you.” He finally said in defeat, not wanting to deal with this any longer.

She sloppily put her hands in a surrender pose, and went up the stairs, nearly falling on her face. He pinched the bridge of his nose and mumbled to himself about hating this neighborhood, before going to bed himself. He checked to make sure Amelia was laying on her side first though, tucking her in and kissing her on the forehead, before retiring to his own room for the night.

Amelia was essentially on house arrest for the next week after that, which was enforced by Francis and Matthew. She begrudgingly stuck to it for her dad’s sake, only leaving a couple of times to talk to the candy lady when she got _ really _ desperate. There was no rule against being with Matthew. There was _ also _ no rule against talking to people in their yard, as long as they didn’t come onto the porch, or go inside. So she still ended up seeing Abel and Gil every day. 

It wasn’t as awful as it could have been in her mind. 

On the last day of this house arrest, Gil and Abel showed up with someone new. 

“Who the hell is this?” 

“My cousin.” Gil said proudly, putting an arm around the buff tattooed blond. He smiled awkwardly, looking Amelia over in a way that made her shiver. She refused to show that she was intimidated though.

“Y’all got the full hundred fifty then?” 

Abel and Gil nodded, and the unnamed blond smiled. 

“So how much longer you stuck for Meli? I wanna start deliveries soon.” Abel asked, to which Amelia laughed.

“Ol’ boy got me on punishment til tomorrow, I can start whenever.” 

_“Why can’t she leave her house?”_ Gil’s cousin whispered in German, making Gil smile smugly. 

_“She partied too hard a week ago and her dad got mad.”_

He nodded in understanding, looking Amelia over again as she talked to Abel. 

_“Does she have a boyfriend?”_ He whispered again, to which Gil gave him a side glance.

_“She’s dating a member of the bratva, don’t even try it.”_ He responded casually, making his cousin go pale. 

“He got a name or what?” Amelia asked, making Gil and his cousin look up. 

“Luther Beilshmidt.” He responded gruffly, taking a drag of his cigarette. 

“Can we call him Bullshit too?” 

Gil shot her a glare.

“That was _ one _teacher that fucked up my name Meli.” 

“It was still funny as hell though.” Abel butted in, making Gil give him a fiery side glance. 

“I’ll fuck you up any day of the week Abel.” 

“You bout to pull a Meli and rip yo’ hoops out?” He laughed, imitating Amelia taking her signature hoop earrings out and squaring up.

“I ever lost a fight though? Don’t hate from outside the club.” Amelia snapped back, pouring herself a glass of kool aid from the pitcher next to her.

Abel checked his phone, and raised an eyebrow.

“I already got orders for parties and whatever, so get to the house asap Meli.” 

She nodded, moving a hand up to acknowledge Matthew as he approached the house, black backpack in tow.

“Aye Mattie!” Gil said excitedly, smiling at him as he came down the sidewalk, to which Matthew blushed lightly.

“Hey Bullshit.” He muttered quietly, lowering his gaze as he walked toward the yard.

“Y’all hoes better move for my boy.” She demanded, giving him a fist bump as he got his key out. He reciprocated, looking back at Gil, and smiling to himself.

Gil spaced out for a few seconds at this, before the group laughing at him brought him back to Earth. 

“How fucked up are you? I need me something that strong.” Amelia joked, imitating his eyes going slack, and looking into space. 

From a distance, Arthur could see a group of people in his yard, and got suspicious. He got off at the bus stop, and as he got closer, heard the distinctive sound of Gil‘s loud,nasally voice. He saw red, and stormed toward the house. 

“I know I’m not seeing what I’m seeing right now.” He seethed from the sidewalk, making everyone in the yard look back in varying levels of fear. 

Amelia seemed unaffected though, shrugging as she took a sip of her kool aid. 

“You _ and_ Francis said I was cool as long as no one came on the porch or in the house, ain’t nobody on the porch ‘sides me.” 

Arthur’s arms went limp at his sides. 

There was in fact not so much as another person’s _finger_ on the porch, and he never said anything about people being in their yard. He should have known that she would find a way around any rules he put in place, and this was no exception.

“Just get in Meli.” He said tiredly, glaring at the gathered teens in his yard as he went inside. He watched them scatter as he followed Amelia inside the house, and sighed deeply as he unlaced his boots.

“I would say I’m disappointed, but I fully expected some bullshit like this from you.” 

She smiled widely, forcing her dimples.

“I’m honored dad.”

He rolled his eyes, going into the kitchen. She followed him in, still smiling widely. Arthur gave her an apathetic glare when she hopped up on the counter. She leaned over and turned on the tap, filling her glass nearly to the brim, and chugging it. 

“You’re actually drinking water for once?” 

She gave him a side glance, but nodded.

“I’m thirsty _ all _the damn time, don’t even know why bro.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at this, but didn’t think anything of it.

“I’m going to the store with Francis tonight, do you want anything?” He asked, grabbing the notepad he used for shopping lists from next to where she was sitting.

“Our shit reloaded? Okay okay baby.” Amelia cheered, making Arthur look down in shame, at her being used to needing an EBT card. 

“Just tell me what you want.” He said through gritted teeth, and his daughter looked deep in thought. 

“You know those fuckin...egg noodles you got a couple weeks back? Those were real good, I know we outta marmalade, and we ate the last can of beans yesterday I think.” 

“That’s a surprisingly British list.” Arthur snickered, writing those down, and his own list of basics for the house.

“Could you get me a Polish Boy too?” She asked, hopping off the counter with a thud, and grabbing her purse from the living room.

“I take that back.” He scoffed, cringing at the Cleveland specialty that he never managed to find appealing. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Amelia flip through fifty and one hundred dollar bills, and tried his best to ignore it. She eventually handed him a ten dollar bill, and he took it with dead fingers, feeling conflicted about buying her the sandwich with what he knew damn well was drug money. The offending bill sat on the counter as Arthur made notes of what else they needed for the week, and what to stock up on. 

Soon enough, there was a knock on the door, which his daughter went up to get. Francis waltzed in, canvas shopping bags in hand.

“Are you ready?”

In the kitchen,Arthur scowled, grabbing his wallet and list. He eyed the ten dollar bill, and hesitated before grabbing it, disgusted with himself for stooping this low. 

The ride to Francis’ regular grocery store was mostly silent, with Arthur occasionally glancing over at the older man.

“Has Mattie ever had a rebellious streak?’

He laughed at this, stopping when he saw that Arthur was serious.

“He wasn’t very well adjusted when he was first put into my care, I won’t lie. But since then? Not that I can think of.” 

Arthur sighed at this.

_ Of course Matthew didn’t have a rebellious urge._

“It seems like Meli has only gotten worse as she’s gotten older, and it seems to be on a bigger and bigger scale as time goes on.”

“To be fair Arthur, your rebellion involved moving across an ocean and changing your name, she definitely gets it from you.”

“My rebellion didn’t involve large amounts of drug money, a rap sheet, and dropping out at fifteen though.”

Francis sucked his teeth at this,as Arthur continued.

“She keeps offering to pay the rent, and flipped through so much money just to pay for me to get her a sandwich for dinner. I don’t want to take _ filthy _ drug money, but she knows my hours keep being cut and I’m struggling.”

“In her own way, it’s actually kind of endearing, I wish I could help you with her somehow.”

“And I wish I could help Matthew with you, you look sicker every time I see you.”

Francis stopped at the red light, and turned to the man next to him.

“Last I checked, I’m the one who has a car, and is currently driving _ you _ to the grocery store. Watch your mouth.”

Arthur pursed his lips, but stayed silent until they got to the store. As they usually did, they split off with their separate carts, meeting each other again at the checkout. Both looked into the other’s cart in disgust, but for completely different reasons. 

“No wonder Amelia has a weight problem.” Francis scoffed as he went into the express lane, making Arthur bite his tongue angrily for the time being.

“How are you about to feed you and Matthew for a full week on twelve items?” Arthur asked as the two of them loaded Francis’ car, to which the older man rolled his eyes.

“I’m good with budgeting, unlike you,who runs out of food at the end of the month.”

They were both silent after this, Arthur only speaking to remind him that he needed to pick up the Polish Boy for Amelia. He begrudgingly agreed, parking at the deli and waiting for Arthur.

As he waited in the car, he saw Gil walking into a liquor store through his rearview mirror, and scoffed to himself. 

Then he saw Matthew follow him inside, watching as his son ruffled Gil’s hair, and laugh.

His jaw dropped, and he blinked in shock. 

_ His son? The rule follower in the top twenty of his class? Following one of Amelia’s hoodrat friends into a liquor store?_

Hands shaking, he walked into the deli in a daze, spotting Arthur waiting patiently on one of the plastic chairs in the corner of the dingy store.

“Arthur I-”

Arthur took his earbuds out, looking up expectantly.

“Matthew just followed Gilbert into the liquor store.” Francis said all in one word, motioning across the street with his arm.

“Sorry?”

“Matthew. The liquor store. With Gilbert.” He said slower, feeling his heart in his throat.

Arthur raised an eyebrow at this.

“Mate there’s no way that was Mattie, I’ll go in there myself.” He said jokingly, turning to the window.

Both watched in silence as the pair left the store, brown paper bags in hand. Matthew pulled his bottle out of the bag and unscrewed the cap, taking a long swig before clinking his against Gil’s.

“I’ll be damned.” Arthur finally said, after what seemed like an eternity. 

“Polish Boy for Meli?” The man at the deli counter shouted, and Arthur wordlessly took the styrofoam container from the top of the glass counter, still reeling from what he had just witnessed.

The pair got left the store and got in the car, both too shell shocked to do anything but stare straight ahead. Arthur opened the container, taking a barbecue sauce covered fry out, and chewed slowly as he looked into space.

“Ring him and ask him to preheat the oven for you.”

Francis gave him an incredulous look.

“Why would I do that?”

“Just do it, this is what I always use to catch Meli in a lie when I think she’s snuck out.”

Francis sighed, but called him anyway.

“Put it on speaker.” Arthur whispered, and Francis nodded.

“Hey papa! ‘Sup?”

_“Could you preheat the oven to four fifty degrees for me?”_ He asked in French, and the line went silent for a few seconds, before Matthew said he would do it, and hung up.

“He never answers the phone in English when I’m calling.” Francis said in confusion, giving Arthur a strange look.

“He did sound tipsy, I won’t lie to you.”

Francis put his head against the steering wheel, and sighed heavily.

“How did I let this happen? He mumbled to himself, and Arthur soothingly rubbed his shoulder, trying to ignore the bones beneath his fingertips.

“Let’s just get home, yeah? I’ll even take care of dinner tonight if you need.”

Francis glanced over in disgust, his forehead still on the wheel.

“I’d rather die.”

“Then perish, let me drive.” 

The two switched places, and Arthur drove them home, pulling into the shared driveway with trepidation. 

They both started to unload their respective groceries, the tension thick in the air.

“Do you think he actually came home?”

Arthur shrugged at this, pushing the door of his side open with his hip. Amelia came to the door,and took the bags from him, setting them on the couch before going back out.

“Mattie had me preheat their oven for him cuz he going out, I think he tryna get fucked up tonight.” She whispered to her dad when she came back with another round of bags.

“He said not to tell his dad though, so don’t say nothing to him.”

“How do you expect me to do that Meli? He’s worried sick about Matthew.” He whispered back, albeit more forcefully.

“He hangin with Bullshit, he’s in good hands. I don’t know why they gettin fucked up together though.”

“In good hands? With Bullshit? Don’t lie to yourself Meli, I have to tell him.”

“I’ll join em to make sure they safe if you don’t tell him.”

Arthur stood in the doorway, conflicted. Matthew was an adult, but he also had a responsibility to Francis, who was bound to find out in a few minutes that his son wasn't home anyway.

“Fine, but make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.”

“So this means I’m not on punishment now?” Amelia asked hopefully, making Arthur groan.

“Yes you’re off house arrest, but only for Francis’ sake.”

She hugged him tightly, nearly knocking him over, and grinned widely.

“I’m not boutta disappoint you now, I'ma promise you that dad.”

“Go before I change my mind Amelia.”

* * *

Author’s notes:  
Luther: 2P Germany  
Taco bell stoner count: My cousin worked at a taco bell for years, and the betting on regular groups of stoners did actually happen.  
MGK- pretty much the only famous rapper to come out of this city

Bratva- Another name for the Russian mob  
Polish Boy- A very uniquely Cleveland combo of kielbasa, coleslaw,seasoned fries, barbecue sauce and hot sauce in a toasted bun.If you’re going for maximum heartburn, some places even put pulled pork on top of that. It sounds awful, but trust me, it s m a c k s.


	3. Bet Money and Butterfly Clips

Immediately after, Amelia happily went up the stairs, calling Gil on her way up. 

“I’m off punishment if I make sure Mattie don’t get too fucked up, where y’all at?”

Half an hour later, Amelia had called Ivan, and the pair were on their way to a house party, meeting up with Gil, Matthew, and Luther. 

“You met Bullshit cousin yet Vanya?” 

He shook his head.

“If he’s anything like Bullshit, I real life don’t even wanna meet him.”

Amelia pursed her lips, trying to think of how to describe him.

“He in a gang in Germany supposedly, he’s actually kinda intimidating not gonna lie.”

He gave Amelia a surprised side glance.

“You’re _ intimidated _ by him?”

She scoffed, trying to hide it.

“I mean _ other _ fools would be intimidated by him, only dude I’m scared of is ya daddy.”

“Yeah sure Meli, whatever you say.”

They heard the party before they saw it, and Amelia smiled widely, walking faster, and dragging Ivan with her down the sidewalk. She walked up the steep cracked driveway to the backyard, and spotted a friend of hers, going up to her and hugging her from behind.

“Chyna you lookin _ good _ baby, I’d go straight lesbian for that.” Amelia said playfully, making an outline of her silhouette with her finger when she turned around.

“I thought you was on punishment?” The taller girl asked curiously, reaching over to the folding table behind her to pour Amelia a drink. She accepted the solo cup and laughed.

“Mattie at his first party, and Govna sent me here to make sure he don’t get too fucked up.”

Chyna nodded, sipping her drink, and motioning to where Luther and Gil were standing.

“Who Bullshit lil friend? He is _ fine _.” 

“His cousin, ‘pparently he’s a gangbanger in Germany.”

She twirled one of her dark red box braids around in her fingertips, raising an eyebrow.

“Foreign, tatted, and a hustler? Not bad, huh MiMi.”

“I already got one hoe.” Amelia said smugly, gesturing to Ivan’s towering form on the other side of the backyard. 

“Girl that’s a whole citizen, fuck outta here.”

Amelia lightly pushed her, leaving the table to talk to some of her other friends there, and after about an hour finding Ivan.

She wasn’t surprised to find him running the makeshift card and dice table, bottle of vodka and a solo cup sitting next to him as he dealt cards.

From a distance, she watched as as stood up to his full height with an angry expression, and saw a man in this thirties put his hands up and leave the table. She snickered to herself at this, deciding to head over.

“Play nice dude.” She said jokingly when she reached him, putting her arms around his waist. He scoffed, motioning for her to sit on his lap as he dealt another round. She poured some of the vodka into her cup, and tried to ignore him shifting uncomfortably underneath her. Halfway through her drink, she spotted Matthew, and waved him over. She winced at how he was already stumbling, and glared at Gil, who was next to him.

“I coulda sworn I told you to not let him get fucked up.”

“He said he was good Meli, his bum ass an adult anyway.” 

“And your bum ass gonna die.” Amelia hissed, getting off of Ivan’s lap to confront him.

“I _ told _ you to not let him get this fucked up, it’s eight and he already shit faced.” 

Gil threw his hands up defensively. 

“Ain’t my fault, that’s the alcohol.”

“I can’t blame yo brain either huh? Cuz you take that hoe out when you make decisions.” She screamed, only getting louder.

The people at the makeshift card table turned around, and one of the people closest to her whispered ‘damn’ to himself, and she glared at him over her shoulder.

“Take his ass home, _ now _.”

Gil pursed his lips angrily, before giving Amelia the finger and beginning to lead Matthew out of the crowded backyard.

Unaware of any of this were Luther and Chyna, who were sharing a few joints in the basement. Her head was resting on his chest as they smoked,laughing at nothing.

“How long you been here for?” 

Luther took a puff, passing it back to her. 

“I have been here for three days now, it is different than I expected.” 

“Real shit? What Germany like then?”

“It is safer, and not as many fat people.” 

Chyna laughed at this, getting up to roll another joint.

“So you not good with this?” She said jokingly, moving her hips around, making him laugh too. 

“I’m very much fine with that though.” He replied, putting a hand on her butt, at which she looked down at him, pursing her lips and clicking her tongue. 

“You horny as shit dawg.” 

“So?”

She shrugged at this, laying across his lap on the old couch.

“Shit, ain’t a problem.”

Luther smiled to himself at this, playing with her braids as they laid there in a comfortable silence. The party raged upstairs as they sat there, lights dim in the dingy basement.

“We should meet each other again outside of this party Chyna.”

She nodded, looking up at him, and admiring his profile.

“That’s cool if you tryna be friends, but we really vibe different than that, real shit.”

“I think the same, we do ‘vibe different’.”

She laughed loudly at this, tracing his jawline with her finger.

“I think we onto somethin’ great here Luther.”

He nodded in agreement, sinking down into the couch, and kissing her.

In the middle of an intense game of shooting dice a few hours later, someone screamed ‘police’, sending the whole party into a panic. People began flooding into the house, and the yards of neighboring houses. Ivan collected bets in a frenzy as the game dispersed, only counting his profits when he reached the basement. He looked up in inebriated shock when he saw Chyna cover her chest with her arms frantically, ducking onto the couch, out of view. He walked over to the couch, awkwardly half smiling at her as she put her shirt back on, and looking over the back of the couch.

“A white dude?” He drunkenly mumbled, making Chyna double over with laughter.

“Gilbert’s cousin.” Luther mumbled sheepishly as he sunk further into the old couch, making Ivan raise an eyebrow.

“Damn.”

“Boy if you don’t get outta here.” She hissed as she moved two braids out of her face, to which he threw up his hands defensively.

“Twelve here and I got….bet money.”

He pulled the wad of crumpled bills out of his pocket to demonstrate, dropping about half of them due to his coordination being compromised.

“Twelve here?”

Ivan nodded, trying to squat down to pick up the bills, but falling flat on his butt instead.

Chyna shook her head as he recovered from falling, grabbing her phone once she’d gotten her jeans back on.

_meli yo man fucked all da way up rn _

_come get him smh _

Amelia groaned to herself at this text, trekking back over to the house from the street over. She called Chyna as she walked, shivering a bit in the tank top she was wearing.

“Where the hell y’all at?”

“The basement at Kiera house, Bullshit cousin here too.”

“I ain’t taking him home.” Amelia said shortly as she got to the end of the driveway. She hung up, and entered the house, nodding at Kiera as she walked through the living room. Taking a deep breath at the basement stairs, Amelia turned the stair light on and climbed down the rickety stairs, rolling her eyes when she saw Ivan sitting on the floor cross legged.

“C’mon, we going home.”

He took her hand and stood up on shaky legs, sloppily grinning at her.

_“I love you so much.”_ He said in Russian, leaning heavily on Amelia, making her groan at both the weight, and him getting sentimental when drunk.

“We sleeping at my house tonight, yeah?” She gritted as she lead both of them up the stairs, and eventually out onto the street. Once they were at the end of the driveway, Amelia opened up the bottle of coke she snagged from a cooler earlier in the night, and took a long swig from it.

“Lemme get some.” Ivan begged, to which she glared, taking another drink from it.

“жиртрест.“ He mumbled to himself, making Amelia whip her head around.

“I wish yo’ bitch ass would have the balls to call me that in English, _ Braginsky _.”

He giggled a little bit.

“Fatass.”

Amelia saw red,and moved out from under where Ivan was leaning on her for support, making him stumble.

“Don’t start none that shit with me.”

“You _ my _ fatass though.” He whined, trying to catch up to her, despite not being able to walk in a straight line.

“Only making it worse.”

Arthur woke up at midnight to the sound of Amelia cussing someone out, and two heavy bodies stumbling up the stairs. He angrily forced his eyes shut, pulling the blanket over his head in a futile attempt to muffle the sound. Eventually the man had enough, and put on a pair of pajama bottoms before storming over to Amelia’s room.

“Amelia fucking Jones, shut up!” He screamed, making everything else go silent.

“Look what yo’ bum ass did Ivan.” He heard her say, and near lost his mind.

“Ivan’s here too? In your bed? Making my house smell of drink?” 

“Y-yeah I guess so.” 

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning his head against the door frame.

“Do you lot _ ever _listen when I say you’re not allowed to sleep in the same bed at my house?” 

“Dad can you please let it slide this once? Ivan wasted and I can’t do anymore of this tonight.” She asked in a surprisingly soft tone as she opened the door, looking embarrassed. 

“Is he truly that drunk?” He asked as he came into the room, and saw Ivan sprawled out face down on the bed, snoring.

Arthur inwardly groaned.

“Fine, just this once Meli.” 

She smiled and yawned, wrapping him in a tight hug. He accepted it, still annoyed at being woken up four hours before he was supposed to wake up, and at Ivan sleeping in his daughter’s bed.

“Don’t wake me again unless your arse is on fire Amelia.”

She nodded, letting go of him and closing the door.

Much to Amelia’s amusement, Matthew was put on the same style of house arrest that he had mocked her for only a few days earlier. Francis had texted Arthur to let them both know the conditions, and Amelia couldn’t resist the opportunity. She was waiting on the porch when he came home from school, a smug grin on her face.

“Aye Mattie wanna go to the store with me? Oh wait, I forgot you ain’t allowed to leave the yard.”

He glared at her, opening the door bitterly.

“Kiera coming over and doing my hair later, don’t fuck this up.”

“Ooh baby you pulling bitches now? I ain’t about to get in the way of that.”

He held his tongue, and went inside.

An hour later, he heard a knock at the door, and put a towel around his wet hair. Matthew smiled widely at Kiera as he opened the door, and stepped out onto the porch.

“You conditioned it and all that?” She asked as she sat him down on the bottom step and ran her hand through his hair after taking the towel off, which he nodded at.

“I always condition my hair KiKi.”

She laughed a little at this, unzipping her bag and pulling out a pin tailed comb.

“You said you want a pony up top and braids on the bottom, right?” 

He nodded, trying his best to hold his head still as she began separating out sections with the end of the comb, and roughly brushed out any tangles. She put on some music as she got to work, and soon Amelia came out onto the porch as well, offering them both a drink. They accepted glasses of kool aid, and took a few minutes break, mostly for the sake of Matthew’s scalp.

“Your hair _ so _ hard to braid Mattie, but you also the only white dude I know that look good with braids.”

He smiled at this.

“Cuz I’m the only one who take care of my hair?”

Kiera shrugged, taking a sip of the bright green drink.

She put a large butterfly clip on the top section of his hair, which made him flinch a little bit at the teeth of the clip digging into his scalp. Kiera rolled her eyes as she greased her hands, and looked down at him.

“Mattie stop bein a pussy, put your head down.”

He obliged, bracing himself for what was about to come.

She roughly separated the bottom portion of his hair into nine sections and began braiding. He could feel her long acrylic nails moving quickly across his head as she tugged at it in a repetitive motion, and knew that his hair was in good hands.

Still hurt though.

Francis felt like Arthur when he pulled into the driveway and saw his son getting his hair braided on the porch.

_ No wonder Arthur smokes so much._

_“Mathieu, why is someone here while you’re not allowed to have people over?”_ He asked impatiently in French, making Matthew go red from embarrassment.

_“Sorry papa, I forgot she was supposed to come over today.”_

Francis sighed loudly, adjusting his messenger bag on his shoulder.

_“Come inside when you’re done,okay? We’ll talk then.”_

Matthew nodded nervously, watching intensely as his dad went into the house.

“Fuck man.” He whispered to himself, making Amelia and Kiera laugh.

“Bro what he even say to you?” Kiera asked curiously as she started on another braid.

“We gotta ‘talk’ when you’re done with this.”

Kiera gave a low whistle, shaking her head.

“Good luck baby.”

Much to Matthew’s chagrin, she eventually finished braiding, and handed him the handheld mirror from her hair bag. He held it as he moved his head from side to side, admiring the work. 

“Do you want me to do the pony? Or you tryna do that yourself?” Kiera asked him as she began putting her supplies back in the bag. 

“Nah I can do it myself, this shit looks real good KiKi.” 

She beamed, but looked up in confusion when Matthew stood up and began climbing the stairs to the porch .

“I owe you twenty for that, right?” 

She shook her head, taking the mirror from off the wooden step.

“Ten cuz you my favorite white dude.” 

“Damn Mattie look at you, Kiera favorite white dude.” 

Matthew blushed, scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m still gonna pay you twenty though, you did a really good job on it.”

“Only if you use ten of it to buy me food.” She said in a flirtatious tone, pulling her shirt down a little bit. Not noticing this, he nodded.

“What bout after school tomorrow? I’m on punishment when I get home from school.” 

“I’ll text you.” She said, smiling as she walked away from the porch, waving at Matthew. He waved back, unaware that she’d essentially asked him on a date.

“You realize she was flirting, right?” Amelia asked once she was out of earshot, and he gave her a look of confusion.

“But she only like gangbangers Meli.”

“Apparently you her favorite white dude in more ways than one baby.”

He sat there stunned for a few minutes, confused beyond belief. Eventually though, he did go inside, mentally preparing himself for the lecture he was about to get.

_“Sit down Mathieu.”_

Matthew sat down, putting his hands between his knees, and looking down.

_“I genuinely forgot that she was coming over papa.”_

Francis sighed, running a hand through his hair.

_“I’m damn near fifty years old chou, do you really expect me to believe that?”_ He said in clipped French, only making Matthew feel even worse.

_“Amelia can back me up on this, I had no idea she was coming. I was just as surprised as you were.”_

The older man looked up at Matthew, chewing on his lip. He knew that his adopted son was never the lying type, but something about this felt _ off _.

_“I’m going to be frank with you. You’re an adult now, and I legally don’t have control over you. But this path that you’ve been on as of late is worrying me, with the partying and hanging out with drug dealers and Amelia’s friends.”_

Francis took a deep breath to avoid the tears threatening to break through.

_“But I want you to make it out of this city, with your diploma, and a clean record.”_

Matthew leaned back on the armchair, in shock.

_“Do you expect so little of me? I’m still in the top twenty in my class, and have near perfect attendance.”_ He spat, standing up, and putting his slides on.

“I’m going to Meli’s, since I’m _ allowed _ to go there.” Matthew slammed the front door, and knocked on Amelia’s door. He was surprised to see Arthur open it, but stood his ground.

“Can I eat dinner with y’all tonight?”

He nodded, letting him inside,mildly confused.

“We’re having bolognese if you’re okay with that mate.”

Matthew nodded, climbing the stairs and knocking on Amelia’s bedroom door.

“I haven’t forgiven you for calling me a fatass, get out.” 

He stood in front of the door uncomfortably for a few seconds.

“It’s Mattie.”

The door opened, and Amelia crossed her arms across her chest.

“The hell you want?”

“I needa be away from my dad for a while, wanna smoke?”

She nodded, motioning for him to come in.

“He on his shit bout eating again?” She asked once he closed the door, taking her stash out of her desk drawer. He shook his head.

“Nah, but apparently goin to one party and being friends with Gil gonna make me drop out and get a record.”

She looked up from the joint she was rolling, raising an eyebrow and laughing.

“Ain’t no way he was serious.”

“He was deadass gonna cry.”

“My dad _been _ telling him that he can’t think straight if he don’t eat.” She said with a laugh, flicking her lighter.

“And he _ stay _ not eating, shits so weird when you think bout it.”

“You’re not you when you’re hungry.” Amelia imitated, making Matthew hit her on the arm.

“Last thing that man gonna eat is a damn snickers bar.”

Amelia snorted at this, lighting the joint and taking a puff before passing it to him.

“Bolognese smacks when you stoned, just warning you.”

“Your dad make decent food to begin with, at least he eats it with you. Mine not eating it make me feel like I’m bein poisoned.”

“That’s on some real shit.”

They sat in silence for a while, wordlessly passing a couple of joints back and forth. Matthew put it out in Amelia’s ashtray on her nightstand, and leaned back against the wall.

“Would Gil ever let me visit the house?”

“Man you _ fried _ fried for even thinkin you can visit.”

“Just asking, hop off my dick Meli.”

This only made the room more awkward, until Arthur shouted up the stairs that it was time to eat.

The two came down the stairs, at different levels of intoxication, and greeted Arthur, who had already served himself some.

“Matthew, your eyes are redder than your shirt lad.” He said nonchalantly as he got a piece of garlic bread from the center of the table.

“Is it obvious?” He asked meekly, to which Arthur nodded.

“Then I _ definitely _ can’t go home tonight.”

Arthur gave the teen a stern look as he twirled the noodles, thick eyebrows furrowed.

“I don’t mean to pry, but why are you here?”

“Papa basically called me a hoodrat and a delinquent for going to a party and being friends with Bullshit.”

The Brit laughed to himself.

“You _are_ the one sitting at my kitchen table, high as a kite, proving his point.”

Matthew blushed, and looked down at this plateful of spaghetti.

“Amelia I almost expected better of you here, letting him smoke pot.”

“He asked to smoke, I ain’t even suggest it.” She shrugged, barely feeling any effect from them smoking.

“You asked?”

Matthew nodded, lowering his head.

“Matthew, I’m obviously not your dad, but surely this isn’t a good idea.”

“I know it ain’t, but I just don’t wanna watch my papa do this to himself.”

He didn’t have to explain what he was referring to.

“Meli, do you mind going to your room for a few minutes?”

She nodded, grabbing two more pieces of bread and another serving of pasta before she went upstairs.

“Has he gotten worse? You can tell me love, I won’t tell him.”

The teen nodded.

“He’s started throwing up again.”

Arthur’s heart sank into his stomach.

“What _ is _ he eating now?”

“He’s eating more than he was, like bread and dairy and shit, but I know he don’t keep it down.”

The older man sucked his teeth,before putting a forkful in his mouth.

“Are you getting enough to eat Matthew? We can usually spare you something, except for ‘struggle week’ as Meli calls it.”

Matthew attempted to laugh.

“If anything he been overfeeding me, I guess it make him feel like he’s doing better.”

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief, glad that the teen he considered his nephew was at the very least physically healthy.

Mentally was another story and they both knew it.

* * *

Shooting dice: Another ghetto classic. Basically the casino game craps, but with a more on the fly system of betting, and dice are shot on concrete of some kind (usually a street or a driveway) instead of a table.  
12- I feel like most people know this, but slang for police


	4. Dark Neck Saga

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started a prologue for this story, and more art/ playlists have been uploaded to r/thisisstillamericaart!

Against Matthew’s will, Arthur made him go to school the next day, and apologize to Francis for walking out. He refused to apologize, but did knock on the door at six in the morning so he could get his bookbag, and do some homework. 

_“Papa it’s me, can you unlock the door?” _

Francis opened the door a crack, and gave an exasperated expression. 

_“Look who’s decided to come back.”_

Matthew gave him a look, and stood up straight.

_“I need to do some homework and get ready for school, unless you don’t want me to do that.” _

He begrudgingly unlocked the door, letting his son in. 

_“Where did you go last night Mattie?” _

_“I went to Meli’s like I said I would papa, I ate dinner with them, watched some star trek, and slept on their couch.” _

_“So if I ask Arthur where you were last night, he would confirm this?” _

Matthew nodded, going into the kitchen and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

_“Did you eat last night?”_

Francis’ eye twitched, and he sat down in the armchair with his own cup of coffee.

_“That’s no way to talk to me.”_

“I asked you a question hoe.” He replied in English, reaching into the refrigerator and pouring some cream into his mug.

_“Who do you think you are all of a sudden?”_

_“Someone who cares about your well being.”_

Francis froze at this, his mug of black coffee suddenly becoming the most interesting thing in the room. He sat there in silence as Matthew took his bookbag to the kitchen table and began working, putting his earbuds in.

They both remained in a tense silence until the teen was dropped off at school.

The older man tried to say something as his son got out of the car, but the words wouldn't come out. What would he even say to him? Sorry you’ve grown up seeing me like this? You shouldn’t have to worry about your parent like this?

Ivan came over to the duplex at around noon that day, a wide variety of flavored rolling papers and a sketchbook in hand in an attempt to apologize for what she let him know he’d said. He knocked on the door, and Amelia opened, looking unamused. 

“Ivan."

“Meli, lemme in.” 

“Why should I?” She asked, arms crossed firmly across her chest.

“Cuz I was shitfaced and ain’t have a clue what I was saying.”

“You still thinkin I’m fat though, fuck outta here.” She said dismissively, reaching to close the door.

Ivan sucked his teeth, looking down at her.

“I mean, shit, you _ are_. Ain’t a problem though, cuz it look good on you, and I love you anyway.”

Amelia pinched the bridge of her nose, and sighed.

“I don’t even know if I should kiss you or beat the fuck outta you for that.”

“I got you some swishers and one those art books from Blick that you like, so maybe a kiss?”

She smacked her lips, reaching for the plastic bag that he was holding nervously. Her eyes widened at the large sketchbook inside, taking it out and turning it in her hands.

“Oh my god.” She mouthed to herself, flipping through the thick paper, and smelling it, making Ivan give her a strange look.

“You don’t even know how happy this making me Vanya.” She said in awe, grinning from ear to ear.

“I got a couple deliveries at CSU for Abel, but I can do whatever after that.” Amelia said excitedly, letting him in, and putting the bag on the couch.

“You gonna shower first? Your neck lookin dirty as hell Meli.”

“I showered this morning, don’t fuck with me like that.” She laughed, but stopped when Ivan came closer, and started looking quizzically at her. 

“Your neck looking all kinds of dark.” 

“Baby you’re scaring me, the hell you talking about?”

Ivan pulled his phone out,took a picture of her neck, and showed it to her. 

“Bro _ what_.”

She walked up to the mirror hanging near their front door and moved her neck around, staring at her reflection in confusion.

“Ain’t no way I’m lookin like that, ain’t no way.” She muttered to herself as she continued to stare at her reflection, moving her head at different angles.

“How I never notice that before?” 

Behind her, Ivan shrugged, concern written all over his face.

“My dad getting home at seven, I'ma ask him about it.” 

He looked at her in concern, but said nothing. 

They dropped by the house to get her deliveries for the day, and drove to the campus. As they parked on the street, Amelia looked at the sheet of paper with the room numbers on it, and got out of the car. She crossed the street, and went through the revolving doors, amazed at the sheer size of the common room alone. Regardless, she got a hold of herself and got into the elevator, and pressed the button for the twenty first floor, ignoring the looks from the students in the elevator. 

“What class are you coming from?”

She snorted in response, giving a joking side glance.

“Visitin’ a friend.” 

The guy next to her nodded awkwardly, adjusting his bag. She rolled her eyes when he got off at the seventeenth floor, putting her hand on her hip as she waited to get to the top of the former skyscraper. 

Amelia eventually reached the room she was looking for, and knocked, surprised that the man behind the door reached out to hug her.

“Damn I ain’t know you wanted molly that bad.” She hissed near his ear, making the man smile.

“Meli?” 

She stepped back.

“What are you, a shitty undercover?”

The blond shook his head. 

“Do you remember me? Timo? Your best friend til you were in third grade?” 

Her jaw dropped.

“That’s real life wild.”

“Ope.So um, come inside? Kinda awkward buying drugs from my childhood friend, but that’s fine I guess.” Timo said excitedly, shrugging.

Amelia scratched the back of her neck. 

“I got five other deliveries in this hoe, maybe some other time.” 

His face fell, but he smiled, handing his phone to her.

“Give me your number so we can hang out! I’ve missed you so much MiMi!” 

“First off,” She stepped into the dorm room. “You still buying molly off me, so pay the hell up. Second off, you don’t sound hood at all now.” 

“You haven’t changed a bit since you were eight Meli.” He joked as he got his wallet out of his desk drawer, handing her a stack of money. She flipped through the bills, and once she saw he’d paid in full, took the phone from him. She put her number in, and also added herself on snapchat, then handed the phone back. 

“Don’t think you’re boutta get a discount cuz you know me, but call me or some shit.” 

He nodded, accepting the plastic baggie from her, and waving as she left his dorm room.

She shook her head as she walked toward the elevator, pocketing the bills, and making her way toward the fifteenth floor. Amelia eventually finished the rest of her deliveries in that building, and met Ivan back in his car.

“Vanya you won’t believe who I done delivered to.” 

He cocked an eyebrow, lighting a swisher. 

“Who you know that’s in college?”

“Timo, dude your age,moved outta Collinwood when I was eight.” 

He took a puff of it, looking into space,brow furrowed as he thought. 

“Timo….he got a stupid long last name?” 

“Yeah, Väinämöinen. You ain’t one to talk bout stupid long names though, Ivan Ivanovich Braginsky the goddamn third.”

He laughed at this, putting the keys in the ignition. 

“Guess not, huh.”

Amelia counted down the minutes until Arthur was supposed to get home once she was done with her deliveries, and practically sprung on him when he unlocked the door. Before he had even taken his boots off, she was next to him.

“Do you need something?” He asked impatiently, and she nodded. Coming from someone as independent as she was, this was surprising for him. 

“What’s my neck being dark mean dad? Look at this shit.” 

They walked into the brighter lighting of the kitchen, and Arthur closely inspected her neck. 

“I have no bloody clue Meli, to be honest with you.” 

“Do it look serious?”

He shrugged. 

“Doesn’t that nurse who lost her license live a few streets down? We should speak to her about this.” 

“Peaches? She ain’t lose her job for anything bad,just selling pills, I trust her.”

Arthur grimaced at this, but knew he couldn’t afford to visit an _ actual _medical professional.

“Fine then, put some shoes on Amelia.”

When they got to her house, there was already someone else there for a similar reason, so they sat out on her porch as they waited. Twenty minutes later, the large middle aged woman in a black hair bonnet came out, smoking a cigarette, and motioned for them to come inside.

“What’s wrong with one of y’all?” She asked as she took a drag, shooing a toddler in nothing but a diaper out of the room. 

“Peaches my neck dark as hell and I don’t know why.”

The woman huffed as she got up from her chair and came over to Amelia, smoke from her cigarette burning the teens eyes as she inspected her neck. 

“Yo’ knuckles or elbows dark too baby girl?” She asked without waiting for an answer, taking Amelia’s arm roughly and squinting at it. 

“You probably diabetic, or damn close to it.”

“Diabetic?” Arthur asked incredulously, to which she nodded, changing the channel on the TV. 

“Unless she just dirty as hell, she probably diabetic.” 

“I know you ain’t calling me dirty when you got roaches all in your house.” Amelia said angrily, and Arthur’s life flashed before his eyes. 

“She said you were probably diabetic Meli, did you miss that somehow?” He hissed in her ear, making her smack her lips.

“Don’t believe me huh? Those hoes at the free clinic gonna tell you the same damn thing.”

“They do diabetes testing?” 

Peaches nodded, putting out her cigarette.

“You can look up they number, or just walk in."

Arthur took a mental note of this, and thanked her before leaving, an angry Amelia bitterly following.

Halfway home, he awkwardly cleared his throat.

“Your kool aid, ice cream, and honey buns are going straight in the bin.” 

Amelia looked at him in disbelief.

“Dad I love those.”

“Do you know how serious diabetes is Meli? If you do have it.”

She narrowed her eyes, biting her bottom lip bitterly. 

“I don’t have a choice do I.” She gritted, which Arthur nodded at. 

“Precisely.”

She watched indignantly as her dad put anything sugary into a grocery bag, and gave it to Francis and Matthew. Then he dug through the refrigerator, retrieving the remaining pre made pitcher of kool aid.

“At least lemme get the rest of what’s in there.” She whined as he poured the half empty pitcher of bright green liquid down the drain, looking her in the eyes.

“I’m serious about this."

“Duh, but I still don’t fuck with it.”

“You’ll thank me later in life for this, I promise.”

She tapped her fingernails on the table as she glared at him from the kitchen table, watching while he did one last sweep of the kitchen.

“I won’t be leaving for work until ten tomorrow, so you’re eating breakfast with me, and we’ll put a plan together.” 

Amelia put her chin in her hand.

“And if I’m not feelin that?”

“I’ll drag you out of bed, I’m serious about this.”

She clicked her tongue, but didn’t say anything. Her phone buzzed, and she saw a text from Ivan, asking if they had any answers. The teen teared up a bit, not wanting to admit it to him.

“Should I tell anybody? Ivan just asked bout it, and I don’t know if I should tell him.”

Arthur sat down next to her, giving her a half smile.

“It’s up to you, but I wouldn’t say anything until we know for sure, as this is pretty serious.”

She nodded, uncharacteristically quiet. 

“If you do...we’ll do this together, yeah? I’ll do anything in my power to help you Amelia, and that’s a promise.” 

He rubbed small circles into her neck, a move that had always calmed her down.

“If you need to go on a diet, I’ll go on it with you, no questions asked.”

Amelia looked down at her lap, and Arthur could see the tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Here here princess, no need to cry.” He said softly, running his thumb over her cheeks.

“We don’t even know for sure, yeah?” 

She nodded, putting her head on the table and crossing her arms in front of it. 

The next morning, Arthur woke his daughter up at eight, and began trying to figure out how to meal plan in a healthier way with what food they had. 

“Dad ain’t no way in hell I'ma eat beans on toast for breakfast every day, I’d rather eat like Francis bum ass.”

He bit his tongue, resisting the urge to choke her in that moment.

“Well then what do you suggest Queen Amelia?”He sneered, tapping the end of the pen against the table.

“Cereal, or donuts if I was allowed to eat those.”

“Both are loads of sugar, try again.”

“Maybe eggs? I don’t even like em like that though.” 

“Meli we don’t even buy eggs because you don’t like them.”

She moved her arms out in an exaggerated way to demonstrate her point.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, feeling ready to rip it out, and they hadn’t even finished planning breakfasts yet.

“You are seventeen years old, you can plan your own damn breakfasts without loads of sugar.” He said as he got up from the table to grab a pack of cigarettes from their junk drawer.

“You’re stressing me out.”

She looked at him smugly as she leaned back in her chair, sipping on her mug of tea with no sugar.

“Let me eat normally til we know for sure and we won’t have no problems dad.”

“And we won’t have no problems.” Arthur crudely imitated as he grabbed a lighter, shaking his head as he lit one. 

“You sound bout weird as hell talking American, don’t do that shit again.” 

“Don’t do that shit again.” He mocked, making both of them laugh.

“God imagine meeting other people who talk like you.” She said in mock disgust, making Arthur laugh.

“Care to recall when you were first learning to talk and sounded exactly like me?” 

She shook her head, picking her mug back up.

“You remember the older Irish couple who used to babysit when we lived in the apartment?”

“The hell?”

Arthur chuckled at this.

“That’s what I thought, you weren’t even old enough to be in school.”

She rolled her eyes, putting the mug down. 

“Then why tell me bout it hoe.”

“Cos they were incredibly good to us when we were struggling Meli.”

“I don’t doubt it but I don’t remember them, on god.” 

“Shame, they were genuinely good people.” 

After finally getting some resemblance of a meal plan together, Arthur got himself ready for work, and was surprised when Amelia handed him two hundred dollar bills as he was about to walk out the door.

“What’s this?”

“So we can go to a_ doctor _doctor, not just Peaches house.”

“As nice as that is, I don’t want drug money love.”

He waved at her as he left, making Amelia see red, crumpling the bills in her hands.

Arthur spent most of the bus ride to work researching what diabetics were and weren’t supposed to eat, even though he didn’t completely believe Peaches. Privately, he knew it was very plausible that she was diabetic, given that no matter what he did, she still ended up eating more fast food than any person _ ever _ should. He felt guilty as well, as he knew that he hadn’t always been able to afford the best diet for the two of them. 

Arthur eventually just sighed and put his phone face down on his lap, turning his music up and trying to focus on something else. 

His mind wandered to Francis instead, and he felt more hopeless than ever before. It had been a long time since he truly looked around and saw his situation for what it was, and it depressed him every time he did it. He watched as the skyscrapers and shiny white buildings of the Cleveland Clinic whiz by him, feeling like an absolute failure.

His daughter was potentially diabetic from a bad diet and had a long rap sheet at seventeen, his neighbor had been a hopeless anorexic for more than a decade, and he _ still _couldn’t afford a car to top it all off. 

His life in America sucked. 

He spent his day distracted, and before he knew it he’d finished his nine hour shift. What surprised him though was seeing Francis’ car in the parking lot, with Francis in it. Arthur approached the car, and tapped on the windshield.

“What are you doing at my fucking job?” 

His neighbor rolled down the window.

“Get in, we need to talk.”

Confused, he got in the passenger’s side of the car. 

“Meli told me about visiting Peaches, and how you didn’t accept money to take her to a doctor.”

“I won’t take dirty money, and she knows that by now.”

Francis leaned back in the driver’s seat, laughing a bit.

“You’re just as stubborn as the day I met you, you’d rather your daughter’s potential diabetes go untreated than accept drug money.” 

“There’s always another way to find the money, and I always find it.” 

“You’ve worked yourself to the bone for years, let yourself have a break cher.”

He scoffed, and moved to get out of the car.

“I’m taking her to the doctor.” 

Arthur froze, and whipped his head around. 

“I don’t need your pity, I’ll find a way.”

“This isn’t something you can wait on Arthur, and you know that, just let me take her.” 

He got back in the car, closing the door.

“I owe you and Mattie something then, at the very least.” 

“Whatever you say, put that seat belt on.” 

The drive home was nearly silent, as Arthur put his earbuds in soon after they left the parking lot. At a red light, Francis tapped him on the shoulder. The younger man took his earbuds out and gave him a look.

“Are you scared about Amelia?”

“Like hell, I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“I can tell you’re stressed, you smell more like a walking cig than normal.”

Arthur smacked his lips, but couldn’t deny it.

“How does a few glasses of wine and just _ talking _ sound? We haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Because last time we did that I did things I regretted, you know how I get when I drink wine.”

“Just say that we kissed, nothing wrong with that.”

“I said I didn’t want to talk about this.” Arthur said indignantly, turning to look out the window.

“We could drink that kool aid you gave me instead.”

“Did you not hear me the first time? Fuck off.”

Francis bit his lip, knowing he wasn’t getting anywhere.

“We can get dinner, and I’ll get whatever you want me to.”

Arthur gave him a look of surprise, and turned to face him.

“And you won’t throw it up?”

Francis swallowed heavily, before shaking his head.

“I guess we could.”

He texted Amelia to let him know where he was going and to fix her own dinner, and smiled at Francis when he was done.

“Where were you thinking?”

They drove to an artsier part of town, and Francis looked at the menu for the middle eastern restaurant like it would kill him. 

“I won’t order anything you can’t handle.” Arthur says calmly as he looks over the menu for them both.

“You good with falafel?”

“That sounded suspiciously American Arthur.” Francis teased, trying to avoid the question.

“That doesn’t bloody matter, are you good with falafel?”

“Depends on what else comes with it.” He said sheepishly, and Arthur nodded.

“There’s an option to make it vegan if you want that.” 

“Okay.” He said a little louder, using his finger to draw patterns in the wood of the table.

“You’ll be fine, chill”

“Your vocabulary doesn’t sound as British as it used to Arthur, I don’t know if you’ve noticed.”

“I’ve been here for nearly twenty years, it were bound to happen eventually.” He shrugged as he took a sip from his sprite. 

When the waitress came, Arthur ordered for both of them, and watched the older man’s entire body tense up.

“Mate it’s okay, I promise you.” He gently reassured once the waitress left, putting his hand over Francis’.

“If you can’t finish that’s fine, but I want you to try. You’re the one who suggested this after all.”

He nodded. Arthur stirred his drink with his straw absentmindedly for a while before clearing his throat.

“So why are you so desperate to talk that you’re willing to eat like this?”

Francis lowered his head a little bit, mostly out of embarrassment.

“Matthew is out of control and I think it’s cuz of me.”

“I won’t say you’re wrong, I’ve noticed it too. I think he’s had enough of you being like this.” 

“I don’t like admitting you’re right, you know that.” He said quietly, which Arthur gave a smug grin at.

“I told you something like this would happen eventually when Matthew was how old? Six?”

“Yeah, don’t rub it in.”

“And I told you Meli would probably end up with a felony at some point, I’m waiting on it.” He added, sipping on his ice water.

“You expect anything else from _ my _ kid? At least she int pregnant.”

“With how much you complain about Ivan, she might as well be cher.”

Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head, sitting up when he saw their waitress approaching.

Francis was given his side salad, alongside their shared plate of pita and hummus, and the man looked near paralyzed with fear. 

“She’s gone, and we’re in a pretty secluded part of the restaurant, don’t worry. Your salad is vegan too, it’s okay to eat.” 

He nodded unsurely, stabbing a piece of romaine with his fork and bringing it to his mouth. Knowing the drill, Arthur pulled out his phone, scrolling through his Facebook aimlessly so Francis wouldn’t feel pressured. He inwardly rejoiced at seeing him pick up a piece of pita as well, and eating about half of that before the waitress came back with their main courses.

Arthur tore into his kebab with fries and extra tzatziki sauce, while Francis picked at his falafel until he was given a stern look. At this, he finally cut one of the pieces in half and took a full bite, surprised that he liked it.

“Is it good?” Arthur asked, putting down his kebab for a second.

He nodded, taking another small, meticulous bite from it. The Brit smiled a little bit, knowing how much Francis avoided talking about food, nonetheless saying he enjoyed it.

“Maybe we should do this more often, yeah?”

“I guess so.” The older man replied quietly, eating a bite of pita when he thought Arthur wasn’t looking. He picked up his phone again when he finished his meal, waiting for Francis to have his fill of it. Much to his surprise, the man in front of him finished most of it without any gimmicks, and Arthur couldn’t have been prouder.

They got a to go box, and Arthur hugged Francis tightly in the parking lot.

“I knew you could do it.” 

Francis teared up, and cried into his neighbor's shoulder. 

They sat in the car in silence for a while once Arthur had calmed him down enough, and lit up a cigarette as he thought about what to say. He saw Francis looking at him in a loving way in the dark car as he took a drag, but ignored him for the time being. 

“Would you ever go to hospital for this?”

“I really don’t know cher.” 

“I just don’t know how much longer your body can keep doing this, you’re forty eight fucks sake.” 

_“I know.”_ He said quietly in French, supporting his chin in his hand as he looked out the window into the nearly empty lot. 

“If not for me or you, then for Matthew.” 

“Yeah.” 

Arthur took a deep breath, knowing he was going to regret this.

“Look at me.” 

Francis turned his head, and Arthur leaned in. 

“I believe in you, and I’m proper proud of what you did tonight.” He whispered, giving him a peck on the lips, and rubbing the tears off his cheeks with his thumb. 

Francis nodded, looking Arthur in the eyes and giving him an uneasy half smile. 

“You’re so good to me, even if I’m stubborn about it.” 

“I raised Amelia, I have no problem dealing with stubbornness.” He joked, subtly moving Francis’ hand away from his waist. 

“Let’s go home, yeah?”

He nodded, taking the hint, and put the keys into the ignition.

* * *

CSU- Cleveland State University, local university.  
Ope- a surefire sign somebody from Ohio.


	5. Canadian Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Dialogue in any other language will be italicized from now on :)

“I’m going to the doctor?” Amelia asked Francis incredulously, taking a bite of an ice cream sandwich and raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, and I could’ve sworn that Arthur banned sweets in your house until you’re diagnosed either way?”

Amelia scoffed, rewrapping the open end of the sandwich and putting it in the freezer.

“One ice cream never hurt nobody Francis. Not that you know anything 'bout ice cream though.”

He mentally counted to ten, knowing that she’d probably get enough of a lecture at the doctor’s office anyway, regardless of what he said.

“When’s the last time you went to the doctor Meli?” He asked once they were both in the car, and she looked out into space, brow furrowed in thought.

“When I got the birth control thing in my arm...I was fifteen I think?”

He gave her a side glance, but focused on the road.

“Oh yeah! Me and Ivan went to urgent care a few months back after I beat _ the fuck _ outta Rae Rae.” She recalled triumphantly, smiling to herself.

“You were still at an urgent care though, did you actually win?”

She nodded, smiling wider.

“All I had was a broken nose and a cut on my arm, she had a whole concussion and a trashed wig.”

Francis sharply sucked in his breath, thankful that his kid has never been like this.

“I remember your dad not being too happy when he saw the video circulating.”

Amelia shrugged, pulling a pack of gum out of her purse, and putting a piece in her mouth.

The two waited in an awkward silence at Matthew’s regular pediatrician, where Francis tried to explain to the receptionist why a kid who wasn’t his was there. The nursing staff were reluctantly handed a copy of Amelia’s medical records, and Francis explained Peaches’ observations.

The nurse took her height, weight, and blood pressure, and by the look on Amelia’s face when she walked back in, it wasn’t good.

“At 233 pounds at five feet four inches, she's obese, and also at risk of high blood pressure without lifestyle changes.” The nurse explained over her shoulder as she put these numbers into the computer, turning around once she finished.

  
“What you being so damn loud for?” Amelia asked angrily under her breath, looking down at her feet as she swung her legs.

“He kinda has to know sweetheart.” The nurse kindly retorted, putting her stethoscope to Amelia’s chest, and instructing her to breathe deeply.

“Are you a smoker?”

The teen nodded, and frowned a bit when the nurse wrote that down.

“And she’s up to date on her vaccinations?”

Francis looked down at his copy of the papers Arthur had given him after dinner a week prior, skimming over them for a few moments before nodding.

The pair managed to leave the pediatrician’s office without any medical staff being too insulted, and an appointment at the local diabetes clinic scheduled for the next Wednesday. 

Arthur was a mess on the phone as Francis told him about this, with Amelia’s sour look as she held the phone was the cherry on top for the general mood for everyone involved.

“Stop by that Wendy’s real quick.”

Francis looked over at her in disbelief.

“Did you forget everything you were just told? Potentially diabetic? At risk of high blood pressure? BMI of forty?”

He was given a look Amelia had perfected over the years; angry disgust.

“I ain’t taking health or diet advice from no goddamn anorexic. Let me out this car, I’m walking.”

“I’m not letting you walk through this neighborhood alone, stop being childish.”

The teen whipped around, fire in her eyes.

“Ain’t nothing more childish than _ not eating _.” She sneered, her posture becoming more aggressive. 

Despite how hurt he felt he was also legitimately terrified of Amelia in that moment.

His blood ran cold, and he pulled into the nearest gas station. 

“If you want to walk so damn bad, then just do it, Christ Meli.” Francis said fearfully, turning off the child locks on the car, and watching as she got out, sauntering down the street in the same aggressive stance.

He took a deep breath, and texted Arthur with shaking fingers.

_ We need to talk about Amelia’s anger _

  
  


And Arthur does.

He gets home from work at midnight that night, and rips open Amelia’s bedroom door. The Brit shooed Ivan out, who took the hint, collecting his shirt, and dashing out of the house.

“Care to explain the bollocks with Francis earlier?” He seethed, looking down at her with his jaw clenched.

“I actually would hoe.” She said just as angrily, sitting up in bed, and crossing her arms firmly across her chest.

“He said he feared for his life in that car.”

“He’s fucking delirious, seeing shit cuz he don’t eat.” She said in a mocking tone, sarcastically giving jazz hands.

“He spent his own money, and took risks to take _ you _ to the doctor Amelia.”

“That gave him no bloody right to talk to me like he did.” The teen sneered, leaning back a bit, and Arthur recognized that fiery look in her eyes.

“You can’t be reasoned with when you’re like this, we’ll speak about this tomorrow.”

“You and Francis some pussies, on god.” She shouted after him, and Arthur’s eye twitched, but he knew better than to engage her when she got that look in her eyes.

He sunk into his pillows that night, bottle of cheap vodka on his bedside table, and cried.

The next day was a non delivery day, meaning that Amelia was free to do whatever she wanted. Luther and Gil were arguing loudly in German while they played xbox in the old living room, as Chyna laid across Luther’s lap, on her phone.

The pair had become a couple soon after the party, and were seemingly always together. Even more so than Amelia and Ivan when they’d first started dating.

After checking on all the plants and writing down their status for the morning, she put on some music and a sweatshirt, and went into her room.

'Amelia’s room' was an unused bedroom in the abandoned house, which she’d taken over as a giant canvas. 

Cans of spray paint in every possible color littered the floor, and she put her mask on before continuing on her current project. The large portrait of Arthur holding her as a baby took up the bottom half of a wall she’d repainted a few months prior, and she turned on the rolling projector that Gil had found in a closed down school her freshman year, waiting for it to whirr to life.

A large version of the photo appeared on the wall a few minutes later, and she got to work, shaking up the can she’d been using for his base skin color, and squinting as she got closer to the wall.

Little did she know, she had an audience.

In the attic of a house across the street, two capos of the Italian mob were staked out with what was essentially a telescope, watching as she worked.

“Fratello, don’t we have better things to do than watch little Braginsky’s girlfriend through an open window every day?”

His brother shot him a glare, turning away from his scope to give him the finger.

“Just asking Lovi, geez.”

They saw Amelia stand up, and hurriedly took the scope out of her view.

“She’s probably too stoned to see us anyway, this is like the fourth blunt she’s smoked.” The younger of the two whined, and his brother rolled his eyes.

“Those are cigs, you dumbass.”

“Shit, my bad."

They sat in silence for a while, with the younger of the two falling asleep on the floor, a lewd sketch of Amelia next to him.

“Wake up bastard.” Lovino said angrily, shaking him awake.

The younger man woke up, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“She taken any clothes off?”

His brother looked behind him in disgust, before rolling his eyes.

“What if we report their little operation?”

His brother’s mouth dropped open.

“Do we have permission for that though?”

“The DEA doesn’t give a damn about us having permission from the boss, and we won’t have to do this shit anymore.”

They both smiled at each other, with Lovino putting the scope down, and stretching.

“I hope we never have to do this again Feli.”

The man picked up his sketch of Amelia, a mildly disappointed look on his face.

“But I might not get to see her in booty shorts again.”

“You can get your dick wet to fat white girls anywhere, c’mon.” Lovino said sarcastically, standing up out of view of the window, and going down the stairs. 

Something about her next round of deliveries a week later felt...off to Amelia. It felt like the calm before the storm when she woke up that morning, and she couldn’t place _ why _. 

As a precaution, she took her 9mm with her, sliding it into an inner pocket of her spiked leather bomber jacket. She made sure it wasn’t obvious, and sent a message to the group chat as she boarded the bus for the CSU dorms. 

_ Some shit gone happen today i can feel it _

Abel called her at three in the afternoon, speaking in a code they’d adopted for when they were paranoid about being listened in on. 

“Half deli circle museum leaf.” He said hurriedly into the phone, and she stopped what she was doing to head for the large park, bordered by museums.

Amelia waited anxiously for him at the Wade Oval, leg bouncing, along with the gun in her jacket pocket. Him, Gil, and Luther showed up as well, all looking just as worried. 

“Someone reported the house, Ivan warned me from his family contact at the feds.”

“And he ain’t tell me first?” 

Abel nodded.

“He said you got a big ass mouth, and we gotta do this shit quietly.” 

Amelia looked on in contempt, even though she knew he was probably right.

“We gotta move this shit out quiet as hell, and we needa remove any traces of us from it.”

She nodded in agreement, then paused.

“That means I gotta erase my room?” 

Abel looked deep in thought for a moment, staring blankly at the leaves falling at his feet. 

“Any faces or your name, the rest cool if this fake.” 

She dug the toe of her shoe into the grass. 

“This fuckin blows.”

“Do you want your precious little gallery gone, or shit with the DEA? I’d choose erasing the gallery Meli.” Gil added, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to be soothing. 

The four sat in solemn silence for what felt like an eternity, before Luther spoke up.

“Where will we put everything?”

Abel shook his head, lowering it and putting his hands between his knees. 

“I’m tryna figure all that out foreign bullshit.”

“I got a hiding spot for all our records, and that shit in coded German, so we safe there.” Gil said, supporting his chin with his hand, leaning forward on the park bench as well.

“I’ll take some of it back to Germany with me, but I don’t think I will be able to take weed plants like that.”

A lightbulb went off in Amelia’s head.

“Ain’t that shit legal in Canada?”

The other three turned to her.

“Meli,you’re a damn genius.” Abel said excitedly, sitting up straight.

She pounded a fist to her chest, smiling smugly. 

“How we gonna get to Canada though, I think I left Ohio like twice ever.” Amelia asked, shrugging as she looked over at him. 

“I already know your man got fake passports on deck.”

“Want me to call him?”

“Yeah sure, don’t trip though.”

She called him, using code of her own.

“Hey darlin, I’m at that vegan place with Dwade, when you coming?”

“Aw man I forgot! I’ll be there soon, love you.”

She took the phone off speaker and hung up, leaning back against the bench.

“He’ll be here in like ten minutes.”

Luther looked between everyone in confusion, before putting his head in his hands.

“I cannot understand your code words.”

Gil laughed and clapped him on the back.

_“The feds aren’t supposed to either.”_ He explained in German, laughing.

Abel shushed them as he scrolled through his phone, deeply concentrated.

“The lowest age for legal weed eighteen, in Quebec. Who we know that speak French and down with this?”

“Mattie speak French, _ and _ he eighteen.” Gil proclaimed, smiling.

“You finally lost your fuckin mind huh Bullshit? We ain’t kidnapping honors boy, taking him to Canada, and making him an interpreter so we can sell some weed.” Amelia hissed, moving her arms in an exaggerated way as she spoke.

“You thought the DEA was gonna have a field day with the house? Imagine a kidnapping, and running to Canada with all that.”

“We all underage ‘cept Luther, we can’t be charged as adults.” Gil tried arguing, earning him three glares.

“I’m sixteen Gil.”

The albino looked up at him in disbelief.

“Real shit? I coulda sworn you was eighteen.”

Luther rolled his eyes.

“You are such a good cousin huh? You don’t even know how old I am.”

Gil shrugged, pulling a pre rolled joint from the front pocket of his hoodie, and lighting it.

“Can you smoke some other time? Your math is shit when you fried.”

Gil smacked his lips at this, but knew it was true.

Amelia held her fingers out, and he reluctantly handed it to her.

“Do any of y’all know anyone in fuckin Canada?” Abel finally asked, sounding more and more irritated. 

“Wait til Ivan get here, he always know somebody.”

“That’s what happens when you stay fuckin fools in the mob.” Gil laughed, earning him a smack to the back of the head.

“We been dating dating almost two years, I don’t think you _ ever _ had a girlfriend.”

The teen froze for a second at this, laughing it off. 

_ At least they don’t suspect anything. _

The group spotted Ivan’s imposing figure from across the park as he walked toward them, kissing the top of Amelia’s head when he got there, and nodding to everyone else.

“You know anybody with passports and a plug in Canada?” Abel asked immediately, wasting no time. 

Ivan gave him a mildly concerned look, motioning for Amelia to stand up so he could sit down, pulling her on top of him when done.

“I definitely know fools who can get y’all passports, but a plug in Canada? Y’all trippin.” 

“We got a plan for the weed so we don’t lose the whole batch, but we gotta go to Canada.” Amelia explained, making herself comfortable.

Ivan gave her a concerned look.

“And how exactly are you dumbasses gonna get god knows how much weed out the country?”

Abel shrugged.

“For comin up with this like...twenty minutes ago I think we got a lot done.” 

“Not the part where y’all were tryna kidnap my neighbor and make him an interpreter though.” Amelia huffed, making Ivan look at her in disbelief.

“This why your little operation got reported, for real for real.”

“Man I know your mob ass ain’t talking, you only got connections cuz your daddy does.”

“Shame,” Ivan absentmindedly played with a lock of Amelia’s hair, “I coulda sworn you were _ just _ asking me bout my connections to get you some passports.”

Abel smacked his lips and looked up at Ivan.

“Fine, you got somebody number then?”

“Hey dad, you ever been to Canada?”

Arthur gave her a confused look, putting out his cigarette as Seinfeld reruns played in the background.

“What are you on about? Canada?”

Amelia nodded, poking at the steamed broccoli on her plate in disdain. By all appearances, she was following the mostly vegetarian diet decently well, but the other part of doctor’s orders weren’t as welcome to her or Arthur.

While he’d agreed to follow whatever diet she was put on, neither of them were ready to give up smoking just yet.

“Yeah, Canada, I’ve always wondered what it’s like there.”

“About the bloody same as here, it’s just colder, and you hate snow.”

“So? A bitch can dream.”

“And _ you _ can watch your mouth Amelia, you’ve been swearing entirely too much lately.”

“Sometimes I think you forget we here, it’s not like we ever gonna leave this hellhole anyway.” She joked, her laughter stopping when she saw her dad look straight ahead sadly.

“I ain’t mean to get you like that dad, I was joking.” Amelia tried saying defensively, putting her arms around him. The damage had already been done though, and they both knew that.

“I’m trying to get us out of here, I really am.”

“I ain’t mean it like that, on god.”

“I know you didn’t love, but I don’t think you know how much I hate it too.”

“I don’t know much else, so I guess it’s okay.”

There was a pregnant silence as Arthur got up to put his plate in the sink, sighing and leaning his back against the cold metal as he thought about that comment. Obviously she was joking, but he also knew that Amelia had used humor as a way to deal with this environment for as long as she could understand how to tell a joke.

“Why Canada Meli?”

He saw her shrug.

“My French pretty good cuz of Francis, right?”

Arthur turned his head, giving the refrigerator in front of him a look of genuine confusion.

“I suppose so, what does this have to do with anything though?”

“Nothin.”

He walked back over to the couch, glaring down at his daughter.

“Are you planning on running to Canada?”

She scoffed, taking a swig from her diet fanta.

“Fuck I look like? Why would I _ ever _ run to Canada?”

He crossed his arms across his chest.

“I have a hunch, and those are hardly ever wrong.”

“Consider this ‘hardly ever’ then.” She retorted, imitating his accent when she said ‘hardly ever’.

“I don’t appreciate you mocking me.”

“Ain’t mocking you though.”

“The minute I don’t see you in that bed at night, your face will be posted on every pole and wall in the East Side, yeah? I’m serious.”

She gives a mock salute, finishing her can, and getting up off the couch. Before she could go anywhere though, Arthur gripped her, bony fingers digging hard into the fat of her upper arm.

“If you go to Canada, it’ll be the last thing you do, you hear?”

“Yeah yeah sure, you’re hurting my arm.” Amelia huffed, jerking her arm out of his grasp, and rubbing the red marks. 

“I’m going upstairs, don’t call the police.” 

“You cheeky brat.” He yelled up after her, pinching the bridge of his nose when the door slammed.

Matthew had school off the next day, and she spent the day practicing a language that she had refused to speak out loud for years. 

“This shit mad irritating.” She exclaimed after mispronouncing ‘bouteille’ for the fourth time in a row.

“You been telling me that French a stupid ass language for how long? What’s with the sudden interest?” Matthew asked curiously, looking over the edge of his mug of hot chocolate.

Amelia paused to think of an excuse, swinging her legs as she sat on the kitchen counter.

“I just felt...like learning something.”

“Y’know,goin to school would do wonders for that Meli.”He chuckled, earning him a glare.

“I’d rather be dead than in high school, you said junior year was hell anyway.” Amelia said with a scoff, grabbing a cookie from the jar Francis kept next to the coffee maker.

“You left your freshman year, don’t act like you knew what hard academics was like.”

_ And this why we don’t hang out _Amelia thought to herself, giving him a sour look, and taking a bite out of the cookie.

_“Arthur_ _said you weren’t allowed to eat sugar. _” Matthew reminded her, earning him the finger.

“Your comprehension ain't that bad then.”

“Fuck off Mattie.”

He put his hands up in mock surrender.

She rolled her eyes, and looked through the jar again, setting it down on her lap. 

“_ Meli he’s serious about this _.” 

“_ Don’t start. _” She replied in heavily accented French, taking a cookie and holding it up.

“What flavor is this?”

“_ Oatmeal butterscotch. Put that shit back, those are my favorite.” _

“I'ma just pretend I didn't understand you.” 

“That’s my favorite flavor, put that shit back and gimme one.” 

Amelia smacked her lips, but threw it to him anyway. He barely caught the cookie that was thrown at his face, giving her an accomplished look as he took a bite of it. 

“Are you tryna learn anything else MiMi? I can give you some my old textbooks or whatever.”

She bit her tongue to keep herself from laughing.

“Naw just French.” 

“Your loss.” 

“On god, I don’t even need high school, I can pay my daddy rent working with Abel.”

“Y’all got reported to the DEA though, don’t think that’s boutta last long.”

She glared down at him.

“How the hell you know about that?” 

“Bullshit.”

Amelia put a hand over her face, and stared straight ahead.

“I’m gonna kill him.” She muttered, her expression hardening. 

“Please don’t, I just overheard him on the phone when we was hanging out last night.” Matthew pleaded, recognizing that look.

“Oh so he was on the phone too? I gotta kill him twice now huh.”

“What’s wrong with him calling Te’Ron about it?”

“He told Te’Ron over the phone? He told Te’Ron?” Amelia said in near hysterics.

He nodded, confused.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Remember when Te’Ron was gonna do time then suddenly only had highway cleanup? He 6ix9ine’d himself out that five years, he a fuckin snitch Mattie.” 

The older teen made a worried face, leaning to support his chin with his hand.

“_ I’m leaving, thanks Mathieu.” _Amelia said with a half smile on her face, giving him a quick hug as she left.

The minute she shut the front door, she plopped down on the porch and called Gil, fingers shaking from anger. She lit a cigarette as the phone rang and rang, ready to strangle him through the phone. On her third time calling, he eventually picked up.

“Heard you been talking to Tekashi 216 huh?”

There was silence on the other end.

“How you gonna accuse me of that Meli?” He laughed nervously, making her ball up her fists.

“Mattie told me _ all _ about it Bullshit, don’t play me like I’m stupid.”

He hung up on her, most likely out of fear, only making her more outraged. She did genuinely try to calm herself down, but the more she thought about it, the more she genuinely wanted to beat the life out of him. Amelia threw the half smoked cigarette hard, making it land in the street. The teen stood back up, knocking on Matthew’s door again. He cracked it open, the only visible part of him being the frames of his glasses.

“Did Bullshit mention anything bout Canada?”

She saw Matthew shake his head in confusion.

“_ Thanks, sorry.” _ She cooed, sighing in relief when he closed the door again.

Maybe she wouldn’t have to kill Gil after all.

Amelia got a text from Abel a few hours later, which made her blood boil.

_ Te’Ron gone buy half our batch _

_ Dont kill bullshit _

She counted to ten like her dad had suggested many times, and responded.

_ Aint no way in hell ima work wit tekashi 2wo1ne6ix _

_ Dont trust his ass _

Abel seemed to ignore this, replying with something completely unrelated.

_ Bring glass jars wit they lids we packin dat shit @ bullshit place _

Amelia left a note for Arthur for when he got home so he wouldn’t 'report her missing' like he'd threatened, and collected every empty glass jar in their side of the house. She carefully packed everything into the backpack her dad used to use for work, and headed over. The teen got a few weird looks in the elevator as she went up to Gil’s apartment for the sound of jars knocking against each other in the bag. Upon reaching his door, she willed herself out of knocking his teeth into his stomach before knocking. Thankfully, Luther answered.

The trio had made a makeshift assembly line, surrounded by plants and glass jars of all shapes and sizes. Amelia set her bag down carefully on his kitchen table, and took out all the jars one by one, only adding to the large quantity already scattered around the apartment.

“We tryna make oil again? What we need all these jars for?”

Abel stood up and walked over to her, doing a grand sweep with his arm at the project.

“Glass jars hide the scent, we gonna hide all this in our suitcases, so the car don’t smell and border control won’t trip.”

The teen looked genuinely impressed, looking behind her in the kitchen, where Luther was putting jars in a stockpot of boiling water.

“And what he doin?”

“Sterilizing, don’t want anything ruined by old food.”

She nodded, putting her hands on her hips.

“Not bad, what you want me doing here?”

Abel looked around for a second, before pointing to the balcony, where the sliding door was cracked open.

“Make sure all the plants thoroughly dry, and break em apart, you’re real good at telling when they good to package.”

She nodded, stepping over where Gil was meticulously weighing and portioning it into different jars, labeling how many grams were in each with a permanent marker.

“Damn you even wearing your glasses, that’s serious serious right there.” She teased as she went out to the balcony, making him shush her, irritated at being interrupted.

On the dry erase calendar in the kitchen, Abel drew a giant Canadian flag over October 12th, noting that they had exactly two weeks to prepare. He put his arms over his chest in self satisfaction, and watched over everyone working to package up their product.

* * *

  
DEA- drug enforcement agency (hoping y’all knew this one lmao)  
Wade Oval- a large park, circled by museums and the local art school downtown,is super pretty in the fall  
Tekashi 6ix9ine- notoriously snitched on everyone and they momma to avoid time for being a fake gangster, the memes about this are fkn golden  
216- Cleveland area code


	6. EC Bonnie & Clyde

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye fuck with ya boi on the subreddit! r/thisisstillamericaart  
Don't forget to read the prologue too :) Chapter 3 of that up tonight

The four of them were up well past midnight packaging, and were all exhausted by the time it was all said and done. Abel confirmed that everything was packaged and thoroughly cleaned so Gil’s mom wouldn’t suspect anything, and took four leather bound cases from his bag.

“Emily Williams,Lutz Zimmerman, and Klaus Vogel, come get you your passports.” 

The three looked up at him in confusion, with Amelia standing up and taking hers first. She flipped open the bedazzled faux leather case to find the passport stamped with Canada, the UK, and Mexico, along with a fake ID bearing the same name.

“God damn this is nice.” She said in amazement, looking at her passport photo taken at the pharmacy a week prior. 

“Your lil boo went all out on and paid for all that extra shit on yours, we got the basic.” Abel explained, giving Gil and Luther their fakes. 

“Klaus, huh? I guess I already got the white hair for Santa Claus.” Gil joked as he flipped through his, finding Canada and Germany stamped. 

Luther flipped through his as well, giving Abel a look of confusion.

“I don’t know why I would need a fake passport when I already have one.” 

Amelia snickered at this, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Why would you wanna get caught with your real name when you doing something like this?” 

“Oh.”

“Man you sure he was actually gang? This that rookie shit.” Amelia laughed, stopping when Luther began taking his sweater off and turned around, flexing the large hell’s angels tattoo on his back. 

“I’m not gang Meli?” He mocked, and she popped a bubble with her gum, unimpressed. 

“This ain’t show and tell, put that sweater back on Bullshit jr.”

Luther gave her a sour look, and put the sweater back on. 

“Just cuz I got Ivan name on me don’t mean I’m bratva.” 

“You got Ivan name on you?” Gil asked incredulously, and Amelia nodded, pulling down the waistband of her leggings a few inches to reveal his name in cryllic cursive. 

“My dad gonna kill me when he finds out I got my boyfriend’s name on me.” She laughed, readjusting her pants.

“He could kill you for way more than that.” 

“I wish a bitch would.”

The other three collectively rolled their eyes.

“You tryna sleep over Meli?” Gil asked her over his shoulder, tossing a bag of chips in her direction.

She looked into space for a second after catching them, pursing her lips. 

“Let’s see what the king of England think, huh?” She said with a smug look on her face, calling Arthur and putting it on speaker.

“You’d better be ringing me because you’re on your way home Amelia.” She heard him mumble in what she knew as his dead tired tone.

The teen swallowed heavily, and cleared her throat.

“Uh, yeah, about that...Gil was wondering if I was tryna spend the night at his flat with him and Abel.”

Amelia heard her dad groan on the other end.

“Remember what I said about your face being pasted all over the east side if you’re not home at night?”

“Yes.” She said uncharacteristically quietly, making Luther look over at Gil in disbelief.

“Make your decision, and the consequences will follow Meli. Good night.”

The room was silent, watching as Amelia took her bag from the kitchen table, and left, only offering a wave as a goodbye.

The door closed, and Luther’s mouth dropped open.

“What just happened there? That is not like Amelia.”

Gil lit a joint, looking over in Luther’s direction.

“One the only people she ever listen to is her dad, period.”

Abel nodded in agreement, pointing his thumb over at Gil.

“Real shit.”

Amelia shivered as she walked home, not in the mood to wait on the bus this late. She needed to be alone with her thoughts and music for the time being, and really reconsider if she should go to Canada.

While she wanted to go, and use the French that she had been practicing with Matthew, she also knew that her dad would worry until he was literally sick. She wanted to see what life could be like outside of these four blocks, in a new country, with people who spoke another language, and according to Matthew, had free healthcare.

Free healthcare! And legal weed! Her and Arthur would never have to worry again. The sheer amount that Gil had forecasted she could make from this operation could possibly move them away from South Collinwood, and maybe even into the suburbs. 

The very thought of this makes her smile, as the cold midnight wind nips at the tip of her nose.

She could bring her and Arthur out.

All on her own.

She unlocked the door to their side of the house with a smile still plastered on her face, though it faltered a bit when she saw her dad asleep on the couch, obviously waiting for her. Amelia shook him, whispered that she was home, and that he should go to his own bed. He grumbled a bit, but stood up anyway, giving her a hug and thanking her for making the right choice. She bade him good night, and smiled as she followed him up the stairs. 

_ I can fix this. _

Amelia went back to Gil’s apartment in the morning, joined by Ivan.

“You sure you’re going?” 

Amelia nodded, holding the door to Gil’s apartment building open for him.

“I’m gonna tell my dad the two of us going on a road trip to New York and see what he says.”

Ivan grimaced at this, but held his tongue.

“Good luck with that Meli.”

She put her hands on her hips as her and Ivan got into the elevator, her expression hardening as the elevator closed.

“You think I can’t pull this off?”

“Not sayin anything.”

Amelia knocked on the door, and much to her chagrin, Te’Ron answered.

“Get the hell out my way Tekashi.” She snarked, pushing past the tall teen, unafraid despite the glock in his waistband.She also ignored the large sweatshirt he was wearing, putting it down to him having no fashion sense.

“Tekashi?” Te’Ron answered incredulously, adjusting his durag.

“_Enough _MiMi.” Abel shouted from the back of the apartment, and she scowled. She followed his voice into Gil’s bedroom, and crossed her arms.

“Why in the hell is he here?”

“Cuz he _ way _ overpaid to buy half our stock in one go.” He answered nonchalantly, counting hundred dollar bills, and laying them out in piles of 1000 on the bed. 

“That’s almost 18,000 right there Meli.” He said proudly, with a grand sweep of his arm.

She gave a low whistle, and kneeled down next to the rickety bunk bed, looking over the sheer amount of money sitting on the faded navy blue comforter.

“How much extra he pay per pound?” She whispered, and Abel picked up five of the bills.

“He bought five, right?”

The teen nodded, smiling as he put the bills back into their respective piles.

“I'ma have Gil figure all this out, but we bout to be living _ good_.”

Amelia smiled down at the piles of bills, her mind racing with thoughts of how many months of her dad’s rent she could pay with this type of money.

“And we not even in Canada yet.” She said dreamily, and Abel nodded, smug.

“That’s why we need your kinda shitty French, you good to go?”

The teen hesitated for a few seconds, but nodded.

“Good, we need you.” He stated, holding out his fist. She bumped it, and got up,walking over to Gil’s balcony, ignoring Te’Ron and the others having a few drinks to celebrate. The teen lit a cigarette and looked out over the east side from the sixth floor, contemplating whether or not she was making a mistake. She couldn’t very well go to anyone she knew for advice about this, who wasn’t already committed to the trip. Talking to anyone outside of this was dangerous, she knew, for risk of snitches or being robbed.

You can’t report stolen drugs. 

Ivan joined her on the balcony after a few minutes of contemplation, sitting beside her on the concrete floor, dangling his feet over the edge. 

“Whatchu thinking about Meli?” 

She sighed, rubbing the lit end of her cigarette into the pavement.

“I don’t know if this a good idea.”

“Not gonna lie, I think selling the rest all at once a better idea than traveling over the border with it.” Ivan said sheepishly, picking at a loose string on his jeans.

“Real shit?”

Ivan nodded, leaning over to kiss Amelia on the side of her head.

“I ever been wrong bout this type of thing?”

She shook her head, putting it on his shoulder. 

“We should _ actually _go to New York like you were boutta tell your dad, how that sound?”

“If I don’t go, I'ma be cut out of the profits.”She said defeatedly, looking up at him.

The teen looked deep in thought for a while, putting a swisher in his mouth, and bending down when Amelia offered to light it. He took a puff, and looked out over the skyline between the beams.

“Luther carjacks, right?”

Amelia looked confused, but nodded anyway.

“Yeah, he taught me how to a couple weeks back.”

She paused, turning to look him in the eyes.

“Oh hell no.”

He gave a cheshire grin.

“I don’t fuck with Te’Rat either.” He whispered, leaning up against the glass door, and exhaling berry flavored smoke into the cold air.

She snuggled back into his broad shoulder, grinning.

“We just gotta wait him out.” She said excitedly, looking into the apartment to make sure no one could hear them.

_“You can’t report stolen drugs.”_ Ivan reminded her in Russian, tucking some hair behind her ear.

“I think I got the gist of that.” She giggled, looking up at the bright blue sky, partially obscured by the roof of the building.

“He thinks he a lot smarter than he is, so he prob’ly bought a bunch of other shit today too.”

“So we could get five pounds _ and _ whatever else he got in that car huh.”

Ivan nodded, chuckling to himself.

“This is so fucked, we gonna be Cleveland answer to Bonnie and Clyde.”

Amelia snorted.

“Robbing fools and reselling.”

“And I know exactly how to make way more off it too.” Ivan quipped, taking another puff off the swisher.

Amelia raised an eyebrow.

“Suburban kids.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I ain’t even think of that.”

“Neither did Abel.”

The two of them left the apartment at around noon,getting lunch, and plotting at the nearest McDonald’s.

“You sure you should be eating any of this Meli?” Ivan asked unsurely as she came over with her regular order. She nodded, putting the tray down on the table.

“What my dad don’t know won’t hurt him.”

“I thought the point of a diet was losing weight for _ your _ sake, not your dad’s.”

Amelia shrugged, dipping a fry in ketchup and putting it in her mouth.

Ivan shook his head, taking a sip of his milkshake. 

“Why you take me to McDonald’s if you don’t want me to have some then.” She asked defensively, raising an eyebrow.

“Cuz it’s warm and they have wifi.”

“And I wanted a milkshake.” He added quietly, and Amelia barely heard him.

She glared, pointing a fry at him for emphasis.

“You can’t say shit about me eating McDonald’s when you came in here for a milkshake.”

Ivan rolled his eyes.

“Ain’t the one posted up, big as hell.” 

“You probably around my weight.”

“I’m 6’5 Meli, and like two fifty.” 

“See? Not that bad.”

“You ain’t seeing how much taller I am though?”

Amelia scoffed, spitefully opening up the big mac on her tray.

“You gonna watch me eat this, and you can kiss my fat ass if you don’t like it hoe.”

He sighed, propping his head up with his hand.

“Don’t get like this, I’m just worried bout you.” 

“Thanks again,doctor Braginsky.”She said sarcastically, taking a bite from the large burger, and giving him the finger. He knew to keep quiet when she got defensive about her weight, sipping his milkshake silently as he scrolled through his phone.

One post made him break this silence though.

He slid his phone across the table, finger holding the snapchat story in place. Amelia raised an eyebrow after reading it, and grinning.

“Tekashi really ain’t all that tricky, huh?”

“Stop calling him Tekashi.” Ivan laughed, taking his phone back.

“He’s really boutta throw a big ass party after buying five pounds though.” Amelia said in astonishment, shaking her head, and taking a sip of her sweet tea.

“How does a party sound my sunflower?” He asked, grinning.

“Sounds like the move baby.” 

The two of them scouted out Covington, where Te’Ron lived, with Amelia sketching out a map of sorts of possible escapes, and ideas of how to transport five pounds to Ivan’s car without looking suspicious. They also confirmed that the security cameras for the parking lot didn’t work either, by checking with a disgruntled looking old woman on her porch, who talked Amelia’s ear off about security in the complex.

“We don’t even need to go to the party, cuz it’ll only make us suspects.” Amelia mumbled as she went over her makeshift map, now in Ivan’s car after the sky opened up while they were scouting out the complex.

He ran his fingers through her damp hair, nodding in agreement as she made red pen marks in different spots on their map.

“You think he done spent damn near 18K for one party? That’s too much.”

“His album dropping tonight, I don’t think anyone coming to the party for that though.”

“That last tape was _ trash _ I don’t know why he’s dropping another one.” Amelia laughed, folding her map up, and putting it in her purse. Ivan laughed as well, rolling down the window to throw his cigarette into the parking lot.

“Moneybag T face ass.”

“Stupid ass name.”

“Which one you say was his car again?” Amelia asked after an hour of scouting out his building, getting antsy from sitting in the car that long.

“A yellow Camaro, with MONEYBAG on the plate, and really ugly rims.”

“He paid extra to get that stupid ass name on his plates? Idiot.”

“And he _ still _ live in public housing with his momma.”

Amelia cracked up at this, leaning back in the passenger seat.

“Gil stupid, but at least he can do math, Tekashi can’t do _ nothin _.”

“I don’t think he stupid, if he’d stayed in school he could probably do something with math. I stayed having him do my homework when I was in high school.”

Amelia gave him an incredulous look.

“He did your homework?”

“Yeah, I’d pay him fifty a month to do that shit for me, he genuinely enjoyed doin it.”

“He does all of it for Abel,that’s prob’ly pretty easy compared to, what did you take? Calculus?”

“Pre-calculus, but yeah,he loved that.”

She put her face against the window, looking out at the parking lot as it poured.

“Wonder what shit would be like if I stayed in school.”

“I could see you at the institute, not gonna lie.”

“Ivan, I tag on corners, I don’t do _ art _ art.”

“Don’t play, you’re really good.”

She scoffed, blushing, and looking down at her lap.

They talked about nothing for a while, until Ivan spotted a yellow car pull into the lot. At seeing him freeze, Amelia looked over as well, a wide grin on her face when she realized what she was looking at. 

“Look at him, drunk as hell, this gonna be stupid easy.” She whispered as Te’Ron stumbled out of the car, nearly falling on his face.

“Bro imagine if this fool got a DUI with five pounds in the car.” Ivan whispered back, making them both laugh uncontrollably. 

“This almost too easy man.” 

“Real shit.”

They watched him fumble with his pockets and lumber inside the ground floor apartment, dropping his joint in the process.

“Idiot.”

The older teen nodded in agreement, turning to glance over at her.

“I think we should wait til dark.”

“Yeah, at least we know he’s boutta be useless the rest the day.”

“Been a while since I robbed somebody, I’m so fuckin excited right now.” Ivan said enthusiastically, his nearly purple eyes shimmering with a childlike happiness.

“Why? I know you good at it.”

“My dad’s boss don’t want anybody who lower level in legal trouble for now, cuz I’m still training to run the whole gambling thing and that one laundromat in Mayfield.”

“We could be a cute lil suburban couple.” Amelia joked, kissing him on the cheek.

“My mob wife in Mayfield, sounds like heaven.” He whispered in her ear, grinning.

“Wanna stay at my crib til his party starts? My dad working late tonight.”

“He ain’t about to kick my ass to the curb like last time, right?”

“Nah nah nah, he’s still cool with you, he was trippin over _ me _. Cuz I was acting a ass with my uncle when he took me to the doctor.”

“Skeletor? Like your uncle?”

Amelia scoffed.

“Yeah I’m talking about skeletor, what other uncles I got?”

“Just checkin, he hasn’t dropped yet?”

“Yeah, skeletor’s still kicking, my daddy tryna get him to the hospital.” 

Ivan snorted as he put his key into the ignition.

“Like that’s ever gonna happen.”

“Right, actin like he don’t have insurance on deck.”

The two of them both agreed that they were tired once they got to her house, and decided to set a timer for when to leave for the party and just take a nap.

Ivan laid down and put his arm around Amelia’s waist, smiling as she laid her head on his bare chest.

“We so ghetto married Meli.”

She giggled into his chest.

“You can kiss the bride hoe.”

He leaned his head down and kissed her, smiling the whole time. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, on god.”

“Me too Vanya.” She whispered, yawning and laying her head back down, letting his heartbeat lull her to sleep. 

They woke up to a familiar British accent screaming at them, and both shot up. 

Ivan opened his eyes to a dreaded pair of eyebrows, and groaned.

“Mornin Mr. Jones.”

Arthur crossed his arms.

“It’s almost 5 in the evening lad, get out of my daughter’s bed.” 

“Dad we didn’t do anything.” Amelia mumbled, sloppily reaching her arm back around Ivan. 

“I don’t care,put some clothes on.”

The older man pointedly sighed, shaking his head as he turned away from the bed.

“I just don’t understand why you lot have to always sleep in _ my _ house, not Ivan’s.”

The teen in question yawned, stretching.

“Cuz your house closer to everything.”

Arthur rolled his eyes at this.

“Oh because East 149th is _ so _ far from East 141st huh?”

“Yep.”

There was a few moments of silence, until Amelia awkwardly cleared her throat.

“Ain’t a good time to say this...but me and Ivan goin to a party tonight and I don’t know when we gonna be home.”

“I need a fag before I can even respond to that.”

She tossed him the pack of cigarettes from her nightstand, and watched him shake a bit as he lit it.

“It never ends with you Meli, does it.”

She hung her head, flushed from embarrassment.

“Sleep at his place, I don’t think I can do this with you tonight.”

Both teens froze at that, giving each other a look of genuine confusion.

“You’re sure Mr. Jones?”

“I am, don’t get me or my house involved in you running the streets.” 

Amelia looked at him in disgust and disbelief.

“On some real shit?”

“‘On some real shit’,” He mocked angrily, cigarette bouncing between his fingers. “If you go to that party, I won’t let you sleep here tonight. I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

Amelia looked down at her lap, trying to hide the fact that she was tearing up.

“Fine then.” 

She blinked away a few tears before looking up at her dad coldly.

“C’mon Ivan, we leaving.”

The teen stood up, walking over to her desk and taking her 9mm out of the drawer, and motioning for Ivan to follow. He did so hesitantly, giving Arthur an uneasy glance.

Once in Ivan’s car, Amelia put her head between her knees and sniffled. 

“Meli?” Ivan asked softly when he got into the car, putting an arm around her shoulders. 

“I'ma feel better once we do what we gotta do, start the goddamn car.”

“You’re sure?”

She nodded, wiping her eyes, and staring straight ahead. 

“I need donuts first though.”

Ivan bit his lip as he drove, conflicted.

_Was getting his prediabetic girlfriend donuts a good idea?_

He looked over at her pretending that she wasn’t teary eyed, and gave in. Ivan parked the car and went into a dunkin, returning with a dozen donuts and a vanilla slushy, already knowing her favorites.

She gave him a watery smile when he came back, and the pair sat in silence as they ate in the parking lot.

“You think he was serious?”

Amelia nodded, looking up at the roof of his car as she bit into a chocolate filled donut.

“I know that tone, he’s serious serious. I'ma probably stay with you or Mattie tonight.”

He put an arm around her, playing with one of her hoop earrings.

“I’m sorry bout that Meli.” 

She sighed, setting the half eaten donut on top of the box.

“This ain’t your fault, trust me. He just sick of this, I don’t know what he’d do if I actually went through with Canada.” 

“See? This is a good idea, we make our money, and stay near home the whole time! Not no type of Canadian bullshit.” 

Amelia chuckled at this, picking up her slushy and taking a sip. 

“For once I’m doing better than Abel.”

“Nah he’s just good at growing, Gil is the brains of allat, think about it. Who plans deliveries? And works the money? And quality tests everything?”

“Gil.”

“I asked him to work for my sister y’all sophomore year, but he too busy dickriding cuz Abel’s his boy.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“He passed up working with Inushya for Abel last year and I ain’t know about it?”

Ivan nodded,making Amelia laugh.

“And you telling me he ain’t a _ lil _ bit stupid?”

“Okay maybe a lil bit.” 

Amelia finished her slushy, and pulled down the mirror to look at herself.

“You ain’t bother to tell me I got crumbs all on my face?”

He shrugged defensively, wiping his own face.

“Ready to get our five back?”

“You already know darlin.”

Ivan started the car up and drove to his house, where they changed into all black clothing and masks. Amelia took the bottles of dark foundation from the plastic CVS bag and applied it to both of their faces and hands, handing Ivan his gloves when done.

“That Russian ass nose gonna give you away from the go, can’t cover that with makeup.” She laughed as he struggled to adjust the mask to fit over his nose. He stopped for a moment to give her the finger, eventually giving up.

“You can’t hide this either.” He retorted, grabbing her butt through her leggings, making her jump.

“I'ma distract 12 while you and that beak make a get away.” She said playfully, moving her hips side to side as she put her gloves on, and Ivan took his hand off of it.

“Stop that damnit, I’m tryna concentrate here.” He huffed as he looked over Amelia’s map of different getaways from where Te’Ron’s car was parked.

“I say we take 90 out to Euclid, and we can hide it with Natasha for a few days, til I can find some fools out in Mayfield who gonna pay too much.”

“What about one the west side suburbs?”

He shook his head.

“Not boutta infringe on somebody else area with stolen shit.”

“Oooh big ass word, _ infringe_.”

“You’d know it too if you was in school, shut up. Sound good?”

“Yeah, you got everything in the trunk?”

Ivan nodded, taking a lighter from Amelia, and burning the map in the sink.

Outside, the pair got to work swapping license plates with spares that Ivan’s dad kept in the garage, and soon enough were on their way. Ivan regretted giving Amelia the AUX cord the minute the Sex Pistols started blasting from his car’s speakers.

“This ain’t hyping me up to rob someone Meli, change that shit now.”

She smacked her lips, but changed the song anyway.

They pulled into the complex 10 minutes later, and waited a few more minutes to make sure it would be completely dark. Both teens watched the festivities from the parking lot,waiting until Te’Ron went back inside to make their move. Ivan gave Amelia a short hand signal, and they quietly opened the doors to his car, and made their way over to the bright yellow vehicle in a dark corner of the lot. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Amelia saw something sparkle in the grass.

“Dude, this what I think it is?”

She picked up the keys laying in the grass, and dangled them in front of Ivan’s face. They sparkled in the dim light from the apartments behind them, and both teens grinned.

“I almost feel bad taking this if he making it so goddamn easy.” Amelia whispered as Ivan popped the trunk, making him scoff.

“His dumb ass the one who got day drunk and left 5 pounds for the taking, this shit karma for snitching.”

He grunted as he hauled two duffel bags out of the trunk, handing one off to Amelia. She carried it to their car, and took the second one as well while Ivan made sure everything inside the car was the same as when they got there, even down to the half drunk styrofoam cup of dirty sprite in the cupholder.

“Make sure the keys right where I found em too baby.” Amelia reminded him when she came back from putting the bags in his car, and he tossed them to her. She squatted down in the brown grass, and felt the wet ground squish beneath the plastic bags she had tied around her shoes. The teen placed them down, giving Ivan a thumbs up, and smiling widely. 

“Ready to go Bonnie?”

“Hell yeah Clyde.”

* * *

Covington- a public housing complex with an open building plan, almost looks like a park with apartments on either side  
The institute- Cleveland Institute of Art  
Ivan and Amelia putting on dark makeup-seen (white) fools do this first hand so they don’t stand out as much, shitty thing to do, but so is robbery. If you still expecting morality at this point in the story idk what to tell you  
Euclid- Neighboring suburb, still basically the ghetto  
Dirty sprite- sprite, sour candy, and cough syrup mixed together, straight nastiness


	7. The DEA, and a New Beilschmidt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just resolved an issue with end notes showing up on mobile! You might want to reread so you can have more context for setting details.  
Also, one shot coming soon :)

The drive to the house his sisters shared was agonizingly slow, as most of the highway was closed yet again, and Ivan was becoming visibly agitated. He laid on his horn again, muttering curses under his breath in Russian. The teens had both taken their masks off a while ago, and Amelia had tried her best to get the foundation off both of their faces in the unreliable lights on the side of the freeway. They both looked as if they’d gotten in a fight with a hershey’s bar and lost.

“If we get pulled over we’re so fucked.” Ivan groaned, leaning his head on the steering wheel, and clenching his jaw.

“If you don’t think about something going wrong it won’t happen.”

“What typa bullshit is that Meli?”

“Something my dad says.” She said sheepishly, making Ivan roll his eyes.

“He ever been stuck on 90 when that hoe closed with lord knows how much drugs in the back?”

She shook her head, leaning back in the passenger seat. 

“If I don’t think bout it, nothing will happen.” 

“Both of y’all stubborn as hell.” 

“So?”

The only sounds in the car were the dull sound of rain on the windshield, and a Kid Cudi album that neither of them were actually listening to. After what felt like an eternity, the two of them were finally able to take their exit, and got to his sister’s house relatively quickly after that. They pulled into her driveway, and Ivan walked up to the door, ringing the bell.

He had a brief conversation with his sister in Russian, complete with what Amelia made out as her calling him an absolute dumbass, and he motioned for his girlfriend to come inside. 

“We leave you and your lil boo alone for how long? And y’all go steal some shit off drug dealers like a couple a crackheads. Irunya’s boutta be pissed.” 

“It’s technically my weed!” Amelia protested, not taking it further when Ivan ran a finger across his throat. 

“_She can’t be that mad about it, I cleared this with her first. _” He mentioned casually, making her ball up her fists.

“_ You seem to forget that you’re sixteen little one.”_

_ “Fuck off, she’s seventeen.” _ She huffed, gesturing to Amelia, who was barely grasping anything being said.

“I’m gonna get the shit out the car while y’all tear each other apart.” Amelia said awkwardly, wrapping her rain jacket closer to her, and going back into the rain.

“_ I don’t know why you’re still with ghetto trash, me and Irunya both thought you would hook up and never speak again.”_

_ “Papa likes her well enough, I think you should watch your mouth. You know what he doesn’t like? You dressing like Wednesday Adams when it’s not Halloween.”_

Natalya glared up at Ivan, who shrugged, going over to the front door and holding it open for Amelia. 

“Irunya said we could keep allat in the guest room long as we keep a diffuser going.” 

His girlfriend nodded, trying to not make it look as if she was struggling to carry both duffel bags up the stairs. 

“Aye Vanya, the hell is a diffuser?” She shouted once she was in the bedroom, making Natalya give him a look of disgust. Ivan shook her head at her before heading up the stairs as well, curious to see what was actually in the bags.

  
  


Luther looked over at Chyna in confusion as she complained again about being dizzy, laying back down on her bed and putting her head on his chest. 

“Are you okay Chyna? This does not seem like normal being sick.”

She shrugged, wincing at her breast touching the comforter under them. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the doctor? You have been acting like this for a minute.”

Chyna scoffed, letting him run his fingers through her braids.

“If you that worried bout it I’ll go by Peaches crib.”

“I wish I understood why you cannot just _ go _ to a doctor.”

“Cuz that shit expensive, I _ been _ over this with yo European ass.”

“You will go to the doctor before I go to Canada, I don’t care what you say.”

“Okay okay damn, it ain’t that serious.”

“It is that serious, I love you Chy.”

She chuckled to herself, readjusting herself to lay on her back to not irritate her breasts more.

“I know that, but I know my body, and I don’t need a doctor Foreign Bullshit.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” He hissed, glaring at the amused look on her face.

“You so sexy when you cursin at me in that accent, keep telling me how much of an idiot I am.” She teased, kissing him on the cheek, and turning her attention back to the episode of Atlanta that the two of them were watching. 

“Can you turn the subtitles on? I do not understand their accent well.” 

“I'ma do it if you call me some sexy shit in German.”

Luther sighed, twirling one of her braids around his finger.

“_ Go to the fucking doctor.”_

“What you say?”

“That you are adorable.”

Chyna gave him a sour look.

“Don’t play me, I heard the word doctor.”

“Fine, I said ‘go to the fucking doctor’, happy?”

She begrudgingly turned the subtitles back on, acrylic nails tapping against the controller as she looked up at Luther angrily.

“You got me fucked up.”

“Sorry.”

He exhaled, looking down at her features, highlighted only by the light from the TV.

“I am just worried.”

“We can go to the free clinic tomorrow if you that worried.”

Luther nodded in satisfaction, smiling a bit as he snaked his arm around Chyna’s waist. Something felt off about her waist though.

  
  


Arthur stood hesitantly on Francis’ doorstep, angry and concerned.

Those walls were thin, and the sound of vomiting distinct.

He knocked, knowing the doorbell had stopped working years ago. Matthew answered the door after what seemed like an eternity, looking worse for wear. The teen was scruffy with bags under his eyes, and underneath the hood of his NHL hoodie, his shoulder length curly hair was greasy and limp.

“You probably heard huh?”

Arthur nodded, wrapping Matthew in a tight hug.

“He’s upstairs,right?”

His nephew nodded, and Arthur reached up to put an arm around his shoulders.

“Sleep at my house tonight pet, Meli won’t be coming home tonight.”

Matthew wordlessly nodded, accepting the key that Arthur handed him, and walking across the porch.

The man sighed, looking back at the steady rain hitting the cracked street before stepping inside the house he knew so well. He walked quietly up the creaky carpeted stairs, looking at the photos of Francis and Matthew through the years in the dim light. The bathroom door was definitely locked, and Arthur shakily knocked.

“Mathieu?”

“No, it’s me, open up.”

The door was unlocked, and Arthur entered, overwhelmed by the smell of bile. He knew the drill by now, but it still hurt to see the man he loved reduced to this.

He closed the lid, trying to avoid being sick himself at the smell, and rubbed comforting circles into Francis’ bony shoulders.

“Come now, what happened? I thought you were done doing...this.”

“I gained.” Francis whispered, and Arthur’s heart broke.

He pulled his neighbor against his chest, feeling his ribs through his shirt as he held him close.

“I thought Matthew threw his scale away though.” Arthur mumbled under his breath, swallowing heavily when he realized that he was heard.

“He did?”

“...you weren’t supposed to know.”

The older man gave a dry, cynical chuckle.

“I had a feeling that he did, don’t worry cher.”

He coughed, and gestured to the reflective medicine cabinet.

“Can you get me those cough drops?” 

Arthur felt like he was enabling, but didn’t know what else to do as he grabbed the nearly empty bag, handing one to Francis.

“I thought you were doing better.”

“I was, I really was.” He responded dejectedly after a few moments of silence, unwrapping the cough drop and putting it in his mouth. 

Arthur squatted down in front of him, running a thumb over his hollowed cheeks.

“You _ need _ help, yeah? There’s only so much I can do, you have to want to get better.” 

Francis nodded sadly, moving the cough drop around in his mouth as he sucked on it. 

Arthur knew this was the wrong time to bring up the state Matthew was in over this, and held his tongue. 

Instead, he sat down on the cold tile and faced the man in front of him, giving him a watery sympathetic smile. 

“Are you fine with being touched right now?”

Francis nodded, and Arthur wrapped his arms tightly around him. Despite the putrid scent of residual vomit, Arthur kissed him tenderly on the cheek. 

“I love you no matter what, but this is not the Francis Bonnefoy I fell in love with.” He whispered, the words echoing in the small bathroom.

“I know.”

They both sat in silence until Francis reached over and flushed the toilet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand again, and looking down at where the tiles met the mat on the floor. 

“Are you fine to be alone tonight?”

Francis nodded, and Arthur ran his fingers through his hair one last time before standing up.

“Mathieu will be sleeping on my side tonight, just shout if you need either of us love.” 

Arthur stood up, and offered a hand to the man on the floor, ignoring how bony his fingers had become when he took the offered hand. He wavered a bit, and Arthur moved an arm out to steady him. 

“I can walk, I’m not a child.” Francis grumbled under his breath, making Arthur recoil his arm in disgust immediately. 

“Good night then.”

“I love you too.” He said with a half smile, watching the comforting figure make his way down the stairs, and shut the front door behind him.

  
  


Arthur stood outside his own door for a while, lighting a cigarette and staring out at the street as it rained. He felt detached from any of his reality as he watched the couple of cars that passed by, thinking of how the people inside were living lives equally as complex as his. He remembered Matthew though, and that he was sincerely needed in that moment.

“Mattie?” He called out once inside, relieved at seeing the teen come down the stairs.

“You need a shave and a shower, I’m making you a cuppa.”

Matthew knew there was no room for argument there, and went back up as Arthur put the kettle on the stove. 

Despite the circumstances that ended up with his neighbor’s kid at his house, Arthur quite liked the change of pace, having someone who _ actually _listened to him. 

The blond came downstairs half an hour later, wrapped in Amelia’s robe, which was way too short in the arms but huge everywhere else. Arthur would have laughed if he didn’t know how emotionally exhausted Matthew was. 

“Come over, I have bisc...cookies too.” 

The teen smiled, taking a sip from the hot tea after Arthur poured it, and closing his eyes as he felt himself warm up. 

“Stay as long as you need to, yeah?”

Matthew nodded, taking a lofthouse cookie out of the plastic container. 

“Where’s Meli?” 

Arthur visibly tensed, clenching the handle of his mug tightly.

“With Ivan,that’s all I know.”

He nodded, taking a bite from the cookie and walking over to the fridge.

“We don’t have cream, just milk, Meli’s on a low fat diet.” Arthur explained when he saw the teen digging through the refrigerator.

“She went to McDonald’s _ and _ got donuts today, I don’t think you really doing too much uncle Arthur.” 

He looked up at the ceiling as he angrily sipped on his tea.

“Did she now?”

“Yeah.”

“I think you following her diet better than she is.” The teen joked as he poured milk into his tea, taking another bite from his cookie before putting the jug back in the fridge. 

Arthur glowered as he took another sip of his tea, brows knitted together. 

“I’m not even the one who needs to lose weight.” He grumbled to himself as he set the mug down, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“She gonna eat healthy if you ban her from vegetables.” Matthew laughed, taking a cigarette from Arthur’s pack next to him, and motioning for a lighter.

“Are you off your nut? Put that back Mattie.”

The eighteen year old gave him an incredulous look.

“You _ and _ Meli smoke, and she ain’t even legal.” 

“Doesn’t mean you should, we’re both trying to cut back. I don’t want you to start.” 

“I’m legal though.” He huffed, giving Arthur an angry side glance as he drank his tea.

“So? Don’t start, and put that fag back.”

Matthew had a sour look on his face as he put it back in the box, but did so without a fight.

“You truly are her opposite.” Arthur chuckled as he put his mug back on the table, taking his phone out to check the time. To his surprise he had a missed call from her, and immediately called back.

“Do you need bonded out?” Arthur asked apathetically, absentmindedly playing with his septum piercing.

Matthew nearly spit out his tea. 

“Naw daddy, I was wonderin if I could come home tonight, I know you told me I couldn’t tonight, but I want to be with you.”

He bit his lip. 

Was he being manipulated?

“What happened that you want to come home love? Don’t act as if I didn’t see you take your gun with you when you left.” 

There were a few moments of silence on the other end.

“Me and Ivan did something stupid, no one’s hurt. Yet. I’m just tryna be at home.”

“....I suppose you could come here, but we _ need _ to talk when you come, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She said in his accent, a sure fire sign that she was emotionally drained. 

“Mattie is here as well, just letting you know.”

“Aye MiMi”

“Sup bro, I'ma be there soon.”

Amelia came home to find her dad and Matthew at the kitchen table, laughing and joking over mugs of tea. She wrung out her mask in the sink, watching the water come out brown as it drained.

“What’s on your face?”

She went bright red, looking down at her feet.

“Makeup.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything.

“Now, you’re both sleeping here, how do you lot want to do this?”

They both looked at each other, and Amelia shrugged.

“You could sleep in my room, but it’s a lil messy right now.”

“A little bit?”

“Bugger off dad.”

They both laughed at this, and Matthew was jealous for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

“Then where you gonna sleep Meli?”

“Probably the couch, not a big deal.”

“Really?”

Amelia jokingly smacked her lips.

“Well duh, wouldn’t have offered if I ain’t want you to do it.”

“Night then, you need anything fo’ I go up?”

She nodded, and went up the stairs, returning with her pajamas, her phone charger, and a sketchbook not long after. Matthew gave both of them a wave, and went up the stairs, yawning as he took his glasses off.

“What idiotic illegal bullshit did you and Ivan do now?”

She sucked her teeth and looked down at the scratches and water rings on the kitchen table.

“I don’t know how much you know.”

Arthur sighed, and leaned his head against the back of the chair.

“Explain all of it then, I’ve actually got the time for once.”

“You know how me and the boys got a grow op?”

He nodded, teeth gritted.

“Someone anonymously reported the house to the DEA, right? So we had to get rid that shit _ quick _.”

“Reported?”

Amelia nodded, running a hand through her hair, and furrowing her eyebrows.

“The boys sold a known snitch five pounds.”

“...and?”

“Me and Ivan stole it off him.”

“Fucking hell Meli.”

“Shut that shit, I know it was stupid.”

She took a shaky breath, grabbing a cigarette from her dad’s pack next to him.

“The boys going to Canada to sell it, and I ain’t going with them cuz I don’t wanna get caught, so Ivan helped me take it off the snitch they sold it to.”

She lit it, hands shaking.

“When we got to his sister place and opened what we got…” She trailed off, and her dad was on the edge of his seat, motioning for her to continue, worry etched deeply into his face.

  
  
  


_“Meli you gotta look at this.” Ivan said shakily after he unzipped the first duffel bag, making her turn around from where she was taking her sweatshirt off._

_“The hell you going on bout? We get some extras thrown in?” She joked, but stopped when she saw how pale he looked._

_Her life flashed before her eyes when she took a closer look at where he was pointing, finger frozen._

_‘PROPERTY OF THE D.E.A’_

_The offending faded white stamp on the bottom of the black bag made her knees go weak, and she nearly collapsed._

_They both stared in terrified silence at the bag, until Ivan slunk down onto the carpeted floor, putting his head in his hands. After a few seconds, she heard him begin to sob._

_ “We’re fucked.” He murmured over and over in Russian to himself, shaking his head every so often. Amelia sat down next to him, throwing her arms around his hunched form, making him sob harder._

_ “My dad’s boss said no legal trouble.” He sobbed, and she barely understood him. A few minutes passed of her rubbing circles into his neck, wallowing in what would come, before she decided she’d had enough._

_“I’m putting them shits back, I ain’t about to let some bitches at a DEA office find these here.” She grumbled as she stood back up, putting the gloves on to empty the contents of the bags onto the bed, and putting her sweatshirt back on._

_“Amelia what in the fuck is wrong with you?” He choked out between tears, only hardening her resolve._

_“I’m putting these shits back in Te’Rat’s car, make it look like he never bought the drugs at all.”_

_“That’s...incredibly stupid. Sit down.”_

_“No I’m not, I’m doing what I gotta do.”_

_She squatted down to kiss him, and stood back up._

_“Good night Vanya,I gotta go home after.”_

_“This is a shitty idea.”_

_“So? Better than them finding the bags and product here, I’ll be damned if I let them connect this to you.”_

  
  


Arthur angrily looked up at the ceiling as he was told about this.

“So you returned them?”

She nodded, self assuredly putting her cigarette out in the makeshift ashtray they kept at the table.

“Washed those hoes at the laundromat, and put them right back in his car.”

“....I’ve never in my life met someone as _ stubbornly stupid _ as you love.”

She grinned from ear to ear, leaning forward to prop her head in her hand.

“Had to get it from somewhere baby.” She teased, raising her eyebrows as she laughed at his expression.

“They ain’t boutta find a lick of evidence in them bags, I’ma tell you that daddy.”

“This is almost stupid as that thing when you were fourteen.” He hissed, getting up to put his mug in the sink.

“We don’t talk bout that.” She said just as indignantly.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill you for that.”

“Belt up.” She muttered under her breath, making her dad crack a smile, despite his anger.

“Now what’s this about ‘the boys’ going to Canada? Is that why you were asking me about it?”

She nodded sheepishly, scratching the back of her neck.

“Was Bullshit the one who came up with that? Sounds...like him.”

Amelia drew circles on the table with her finger as she shook her head.

“We had a meeting after finding out we was reported, and I jokingly mentioned that weed legal in Canada.”

“And the lot of them ran with it?”

“Yeah.”

Arthur leaned back in his chair and laughed until there were tears in his eyes.

“Good God I’m _ so _ glad you’re making the right choice for once.”

Amelia looked up from the table with a watery smile.

“I did the right thing?”

“....considering the rest of this convoluted mess, I suppose you did choose the lesser of two evils.”

She beamed, her blue eyes shining in the overhead light.

“Been a long time since you told me I did something right.”

“How long has it been?”

There was silence as Amelia stared in the direction of the refrigerator, lips pursed as she thought.

“Prob’ly since I was in middle school.”

“Middle school huh.” Arthur mumbled, moving his gaze from the table to his daughter.

“Then I’ll tell you now, I’m proper proud of you.”

“Proper proud.” She repeated to herself in his accent, a smile growing.

He walked around to where she was sitting, and gave her a tight hug, kissing the crown off her head.

“That’s right, I’m proper proud of you Amelia.”

  
  


Unaware of Amelia and Ivan’s actions or realization, the other three began preparing for their trip to Canada, and spending the almost $18,000 that they’d made. 

Gil being more eager to spend than the others.

He showed up at the duplex a week after the deal, nearly bouncing on his heels as he waited for Matthew to get home from school.

The blonde nodded to him as he approached the house, and Gil grinned ear to ear.

“You lookin good Mattie.”

“No I don’t, stop it Bullshit.” He muttered, blushing and looking down at the other teen’s mismatched sneakers.

“Yeah yeah whatever, but I got a surprise! I just gotta wait for our uber.”

“A uber?” The taller teen asked incredulously, and Gil nodded. 

“You gonna love this, I promise baby.” He said excitedly, tapping his fingers on the arm rests of the lawn chair as he waited, occasionally glancing over at Matthew.

The entire uber ride to the surprise in the suburbs, Gil seemed incapable of sitting still, constantly doing _ something _with his fingers or feet, and continually babbling to Matthew, acting as if the driver wasn’t even there. 

They both thanked the driver as they pulled into the strip mall, and the older of the two gave the other a strange look.

“A pet store?”

He nodded, a smile threatening to tear his face in two. 

They walked inside, and Gil talked to the girl at the counter next to the door, while Matthew wandered around the small store. The sound of birds chattering and singing was overwhelming, and he looked at the wall of assorted bird treats and toys in curiosity. 

“Aye Mattie! Come here!”

He followed Gils voice to a walled off part of the store, which an employee opened the door to, and he doesn’t ever think he’s so many parrots before. 

“Are you buying a _ bird _?”

The albino nodded enthusiastically, listening intently as the worker instructed him how to hold the cockatiel that was in the process of perching on his finger.

“This is the male Lutino that you were considering, right?” 

He nodded, making kissy noises at the bird perched on his finger. 

“Y’all put my cage and allat on hold right?”

The employee nodded, leaving the two teens alone with Gil’s new pet. 

“Yo dumbass came on some money and now you getting a bird?”

“That’s _ exactly _ what I’m doin babe.”

“Is Mattie being a hatin ass hoe? Yes he is being a hatin ass hoe.” Gil cooed to the bird, smiling widely when it began bobbing its neck.

“Ain’t he cute?”

“....I guess so? Why the fuck you buying a bird though?”

“Cuz I want one, and I ain’t have the money to give it what it needs til I came up on that Canada money.” 

Matthew had to admit, Gil was completely enthralled with the cockatiel, and he was legitimately impressed that he was putting so much effort into giving it the best he could.

“You thought about names yet?”

“Yeah, I been googling badass names for birds, but none those _ cool enough _for this dude here…”

“Just tell me what you tryna name him.”

“Gilbird.”

Matthew paused.

“You’re fucking with me.”

“Naw, you talking to Gilbird Beilschmidt right here, be nice.” He said defensively, moving his hand up and down, and making the bird start chattering.

“Do Luther _ or _ your Momma know bout this?”

“My Momma know, Luther don’t yet. He not gonna like having to smoke outside though, I'ma tell you that.”

“Where you gonna put...Gilbird?”

“My room, don’t want him flying away, duh.”

The employee called for Gil to come check out the supplies he’d put on hold, leaving Matthew alone with Gilbird perched on his finger. 

The bird cocked its head as it sat on his finger, staring him in the eyes, making him squirm.

At the counter, the teen made sure that everything he’d put on hold was there, and handed the girl at the counter six hundred dollar bills, which she rolled her eyes at before proofing them all.

“Your change is $29.57, how do you want me to pack this up?”

He stared at the change in his hand as he counted it up, looking out at the parking lot. 

“Honestly? I have no clue what kinda car my uber got yet, so I gotta wait til that gets here to decide.”

She turned her back to roll her eyes, pretending to be preoccupied with one of the pamphlets.

“Do you need a care guide as well?”

“I could, what it cost?”

“It’s free if you buy a bird.” She said through gritted teeth, looking at the time on the register and seeing that it was past time for her to clock out.

“Shit man, ain’t nothing cheaper than free! Lemme get one.”

The employee bitterly gave him a guide, and he barely noticed due to sheer joy about Gilbird.

Matthew peaked his head out of the door, making sure that Gilbird wouldn’t be able to fly out.

“What should I do with it?” 

The cashier pointed to her wrist like a watch when the store owner came by, and she nodded in understanding, turning to Gil and Matthew.

“Since you got a travel cage, you can take your Lutino home in that, rather than the box we normally advise. How far are you from here? You might need to keep the heat on in the car if it’ll be a long drive.”

“We from Cleveland baby! And I'ma let the uber driver know allat.” He said enthusiastically, gesturing grandly to the large cage, which contained everything he’d bought for Gilbird.

“Excuse me ma’am, what’s a Lutino?” Matthew asked quietly, and the store owner turned in his direction and smiled, relieved that he wasn’t like Gil.

“Lutino means that he has a yellow head, and red marks on his cheeks.”

He nodded in understanding, stepping aside when the owner of the store came in, carrying the travel cage.

She put on a pair of gloves and gently motioned for the bird lay on its back before picking him up, and putting him in the new cage, humming as she did so.

“Aye Mattie our uber here!” Gil shouted from outside the door,knocking on the glass and pointing at the parking lot. Matthew considered burying himself deep in the earth and never coming back out.

“Sorry bout him, he’s just..happy about this.” He stuttered, smiling nervously before giving the store owner a wave goodbye and leaving the room, travel cage and Gilbird in hand.

* * *

Age refresher!

Natalya and Luther are 16

Amelia, Abel, Gil, and Chyna are 17

Matthew and Kiera are 18

Ivan is 19

Irunya is 22

Arthur is 36

Francis is 48

90-the bane of any Clevelander’s existence, whether you’re in EC, the west side, or the suburbs. Complaining about it is as much of a Cleveland hobby as complaining about lake effect snow

Lofthouse cookies- best cookies on the planet, I actually feel bad for people who’ve never had them :/ I’m so sorry @my European readers

Proofing hundred dollar bills- does this apply to other currencies? No clue. But you take a special marker and scribble in the corner of the bill then hold it up to the light to make sure it’s real. I _ wish _someone would have the nerve to come to my job and pull that


	8. Snitches and Milestones

I really enjoyed writing this chapter :)

* * *

“What do you mean it was _ stolen _?” The investigator yelled at the teen in front of him, making him look at the cold metal table in front of him, scared for his life.

“It was stolen out the trunk of my car.”

“You’re telling me that whoever stole five pounds of cannabis from you left the duffel bags, and literally no trace of themselves?”

“Yes sir.” He said quietly, wishing the shiny floors would swallow him up. 

“So where’s the $17,500 of _ taxpayer money _? Hm?”

“I already told you that they split they money pretty evenly among they selves, and you have audio of all four of them.”

The young bespectacled investigator took a deep breath, pacing the small room.

“Do you have any enemies? Anyone who would know you had the cannabis in your car at that time, and would want to take it from you?”

Te’Ron leaned back in his seat, after a few moments of intense thought.

“Actually, I think I do.”

  
  


Matthew helped Gil set up the cage on a table in his bedroom once they got back to his apartment, much to Luther’s chagrin.

“_ You bought a fucking bird?” _ He huffed as the two teens brought the cage inside, and Gil nodded happily, letting Gilbird out of his travel cage.

“Put that shit out! Don’t care if yo ass get lung cancer, but what bout my bird?”

Luther grumbled to himself for a few seconds before taking it out onto the balcony. 

“I wonder if getting Gilbird could help y’all quit.” Matthew suggested, making Gil laugh.

“That’s fuckin hilarious Mattie.”

The pair of them sat in comfortable silence for a while as Gil assembled perches and toys, until Matthew checked his phone.

“I gotta get home Bullshit, I ain’t tell Arthur I was going anywhere in the first place.”

Gil scoffed as he finished fastening a bell to the inside of the cage. 

“You seen Meli? Anything short of you gettin arrested boutta make you look like a _ saint _to Govna.”

The eighteen year old giggled as he laid down on the bottom bunk, admiring his view of Gil’s arms as he fastened toys to the bars in his wife beater. 

“You know he don’t like being called Govna!”

The albino snorted, giving a playful glance over his shoulder.

“That’s why I do it, cuz he _ hates _ me bro.”

“I still wanna get home at a decent time though, he’s real nice letting me stay there til my papa get his shit together.”

“You gonna be staying at his house til the day you die then.” Gil laughed, squatting down and taking the food bowls from the floor next to him.

“Please don’t say that.” Matthew mumbled, looking up at the metal frame above him.

“Shits true.”

“Don’t mean I wanna hear it.”

Gil shrugged, leaning his head back so he could look at Matthew.

“Whether you tryna hear it or not, he ain’t about to get his shit together no time soon.”

“Honestly? Fuck you, and that stupid ass bird.” Matthew snapped, getting off the bed, and harshly pushing Gil out of his way as he stormed out of the apartment.

The door to the apartment slammed, and Luther came in from the balcony.

“_ What just happened?”_

_ “Some bullshit.” _Gil groaned, leaning his head against the edge of the bottom bunk.

  
  
  


“And you know their names?”

Te’Ron nodded, nervously adjusting his durag.

“Amelia Jones, Gilbert Beilschmidt, Luther Beilschmidt, and Abel De Boer.” He said slowly, trying his best to pronounce ‘Beilschmidt’.

The investigator typed these names into a database, looking up to give the teen a strange look when he got to Luther.

“It says here that Luther is a German national?”

He nodded.

“That’s Gil cousin, he visiting.”

The man wrote that down in the notebook next to him, looking back up at the teen and adjusting his glasses.

“Based on your personal observations, who is the head of this drug operation?”

“Amelia Jones.”

The man shut his laptop, and crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his head back.

“Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Women in drug operations tend to be…” The man made a motion with his hand, pursing his lips.

“...More a visual distraction than the leader, catching my drift? I don’t doubt what you’re saying here, but it’s just rare is all.”

The investigator felt a buzz on his walkie talkie and left the interrogation room, leaving Te’Ron to himself for a few minutes.

“Alfred, what the hell was that?” His supervisor yelled once the door was firmly shut, making him shudder.

“My apologies sir.”

“_ Never _ doubt the testimony of someone who’s been working undercover unless you can prove them wrong, you hear?”

“Yes sir.”

“Don’t fuck yourself over on your first real case, get back in there.” His supervisor warned, dismissively waving his hand in the direction of the room. Alfred nodded, offering an apologetic smile, and taking a deep breath before opening the door back up.

“I apologize for that, now back to the operation...would you be able to illustrate the basic hierarchy for me on that white board?” 

Te’Ron nodded, accepting a black marker from Alfred, and getting up from the table. He paused when he reached the board, uncapping the marker, and writing ‘AMELIA’ in large, shaky letters in the center of it.

He next listed Abel, Gil, and Luther, adding in the names of people who bought from them that he didn’t like as their underlings. For authenticity, he added in street names and childhood nicknames, even making up a few to beef up his credibility.

When done, he put the cap back on the marker, handing it to Alfred when done,and taking a seat.

Alfred leaned back in his chair, amazed at the in depth chicken scratch in front of him. He pulled the walkie talkie from his belt, and told the others to investigate the names written.

“You confirmed they were planning a trip to Canada, per our last meeting?”

“Yeah, she mentioned going to M..M..Manitoba? I remember it started with an M.”

“Manitoba?”

Te’Ron nodded, inwardly panicking, hoping to god that he said the right place.

  
  
  


Matthew thought about what Gil had said, one question rattling around in his brain the entire way home.

“What was my dad like when he ate normally?”

Arthur took a sip from his ale, giving Matthew a curious look.

“Why do you ask?”

The teen shrugged, taking a drink from his own bottle. 

“Well…” Arthur wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking into space as he thought.

“Whenever we had time away from you and Meli, he loved to take me to different restaurants, and make me foods I hadn’t had before. If it weren’t for him I probably wouldn’t have ever tried soul or cajun food.” 

He took another sip, laughing a bit to himself as he reminisced.

“I’ll never forget the first time he made crawfish and expected me to eat them, I really thought he was taking the piss.”

“Those the best though!” Matthew laughed, trying to think of the last time his dad even put the effort into a spread like that.

“Those little buggers were just sitting there, staring at me like that, and _ then _he twisted the head off to eat it.” He shivered, shaking his head.

“But they’re so good.”

“I love you Mattie, but crawfish are proper nasty.”

“So is this ale uncle Arthur.” The teen retorted, making a face after taking a sip from his bottle.

“Then don’t drink it mate, Meli loves those.”

“Meli liking what you like? Shocking.”

Arthur scoffed, laughing a bit as he took another swig.

“That reminds me actually, I need to ask her something. Oi Amelia! Come downstairs love.”

They heard footsteps coming down the carpeted stairs a few seconds later,and Amelia sat down next to Matthew, grinning at both of them.

“Y’all got ale? Sweet.”

“Sit down, think of your blood sugar.”

She smacked her lips, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You can have a cuppa if you want Meli.”

“Fine.” She grumbled, slouching down in the chair, and giving Matthew’s ale a side glance.

“You like chai, right Mattie?”

He nodded, passing his bottle to Amelia while Arthur dug through the cabinets for mugs. Her eyes lit up, and she chugged some of it, sliding the bottle back over when she saw her dad setting them on the counter.

“You a real one.” She whispered, giving her neighbor a fist bump under the table. He smiled devilishly, going back to a neutral expression when Arthur turned around. He shot Amelia a questioning look as she burped into her hand, looking up at him and raising an eyebrow. 

“It’ll be ready soon, I suggest you start on your homework Matthew.”

He sighed, giving Arthur a pleading look, but getting up to get his books regardless.

“What’s the point in gettin him tipsy and doing homework?” Amelia laughed, earning her a glare.

“I always have a drink with dinner, and he chooses to as well.”

“You already _ know _ he can’t handle his liquor though.”

Arthur gave her an exasperated look, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Just leave it be Meli, don’t make my headache worse.”

“Oh yeah, yo sinuses predicting the weather again huh?”

“Belt up, fuck’s sake.”

She threw her hands into a mock surrender pose, getting up from her chair.

“Lemme know when my cuppa ready.” She said as she left the table, grabbing Matthew’s bottle of ale by the neck as she walked away.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed at her grabbing the bottle.

“I don’t know who you think I am, bring that back.”

She took a swig of it and set it back down, taunting her dad with her smug expression.

“Delicious.” She sneered, turning around, and heading up the stairs.

“Come back, I called you for a reason.”

Amelia smacked her lips, plopping back down in the creaky wooden chair.

“Do you have any kind of update on Canada?”

“No, but I’m sellin the shit we stole from Te’Rat tomorrow to some boof ass Mayfield kids.”

Arthur put his head in his hands, moving two fingers apart so he could look at her, and sighing deeply.

“You couldn’t have just let it be Meli? You got out of _ this _ by the skin of your teeth, and you’re still going out and selling it?”

She nodded, indignant.

“You think I’d go through the shit to steal five pounds and not sell it? That’s _ stupid _ stupid.”

Arthur stood up, gritting his teeth.

“You want to know what’s ‘_ stupid _ stupid’? Growing god knows how much weed in an abandoned house, selling it to a DEA informant, _ stealing it _ from said informant, and then having the bleeding nerve to sell it again.”

She looked up at him angrily, supporting her chin with one hand as she leaned back, fire in her eyes.

“You already know I'ma do me here, you wasting your breath.”

“I’m wasting my breath huh? God forbid I don’t want you dead or in prison.” Arthur screamed, making her lean back further, mouth agape.

He grabbed his pack of cigarettes from the table and lit one with shaking hands, pointing to the left swiftly.

“Sleep at Francis’ tonight Amelia.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

  
  


She pulled her spiked bomber jacket closer to her as she knocked on Francis’ door, angry beyond belief.

They both looked surprised to see each other, with Amelia feeling a tingle of dread in her gut when she saw how ragged he looked.

“My dad kicked me out.” She said quietly, and Francis nodded before opening the door wider and letting her in. 

“Sorry about the mess Meli.” He said hoarsely, gesturing to the pile of papers in various stages of being graded littering the round kitchen table. 

“It’s cool, you sick? Your voice don’t sound good”

He shook his head, putting his reading glasses back on before sitting down and continuing to grade.

She noticed the mostly empty bag of sugar free cough drops next to him, and realized why he was hoarse.

“You been throwin shit up again since Mattie been gone haven’t you.” 

He looked up, and immediately looked back down at the test he was grading. 

“You got me fucked up, but I guess we in the same boat.”

He paused at this, glasses sliding down his nose.

“Not eating enough is horrible for diabetics.” He mumbled, and Amelia clenched her fists as she perched herself on the counter behind him.

“That shit horrible for anybody, especially you. But naw I’m talking about having my dad fucked up.”

He nodded, hearing her but ignoring the first part.

“So we’re being quarantined, non?”

She snorted at this, turning herself around to look in the cabinets, and frowning at not seeing much in there.

“Tryna go shopping tomorrow? Ain’t a lot in your cabinets, and you know I eat a lot.”

He gave her a side glance over his glasses.

“I guess we could.”

“You had dinner yet? I know you be losing track of time when you grade.” Amelia asked a while later, hoping that she could somehow convince him to eat.

He shook his head, shutting a packet, and putting it off to the side. 

“I’m not hungry, thanks Amelia.”

“Well I am, I'ma make us something.” 

She chose to not let him know that she’d already eaten some pre-diabetes friendly slop that she hated every minute of eating, while Matthew got to have whatever he wanted. Her bitterness about this dissipated when she found two boxes of kraft mac n cheese next to an unopened box of nutty bars in the back of a cabinet.

“Oh _ hell _ yeah.” She happily mumbled to herself as she took a wafer out of the box, sticking one in her mouth as she grabbed both boxes from the cabinet.

“You good with dairy and whatever?”

“I told you I’m not hungry, thank you for thinking of me though.”

She smacked her lips as she waited for the pot to fill up with water.

“I don’t like eating alone, you gonna eat something with me if it kill you.” 

“No wonder Arthur kicked you out, you’re being more difficult than normal.” 

“So? Whatchu tryna do?”

He put his red pen down, and set his glasses down on the table.

“There’s a container of sliced cucumber in the fridge, I’ll have some of that.”

“Anything else?”

“Peace and quiet while I grade.” He gritted, accepting the container.

“So you just gonna let me, the pre-diabetic, eat two boxes of mac n cheese by herself? Shame if my dad were to find out.” She said, giving him a taunting look.

He mumbled something under his breath in French, before turning around to face her.

“You can eat whatever if you leave me alone.”

She paused, legitimately considering this.

“What my dad call this again? When we let you do this?”

“Enabling.” Francis muttered, being very familiar with Arthur’s repetition of the word. He ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the hairs that stuck to his hand when he pulled away. Amelia sat down across from him, staring blankly at the pile of graded papers in front of her.

“Gonna be honest, I already ate, but it sucked. Maybe we should both have these.” She said in an uncharacteristically quiet way, running her broken acrylic nail over what was once a container of butter, concentrating on how the overhead light reflected off the outer skin of the slices inside.

“_ Maybe so _.” He mumbled in French, closing a test packet, and sighing.

“You don’t have to do this Meli, honestly.”

“Yeah but what if I wanna? You already know nobody gonna change my mind.”

“I’m well aware, trust me.”

“Then eat one.”

He looked over his glasses, unamused.

“Give me a minute, will you chou?”

She leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You gonna eat these or I’m ringing my dad, or your old therapist. Deadass.”

Francis was taken aback at this, used to Amelia being disrespectful, but never with so much conviction. He bitterly gave a dry laugh, tired eyes meeting Amelia’s angry ones.

“What the hell could my old therapist do? I haven’t met with her since Mathieu was in middle school.”

“I’m gonna tell her you back being bony as hell, don’t eat, and be throwing up like it was going out of style.” She said just as bitterly, counting out the reasons on her fingers.

“Therapists don’t do anything unless you pay them first, don’t know if you realize that.”

Amelia, familiar petty glint in her eye, nodded at this and got her purse off the counter, opening her wallet, and throwing bills haphazardly in his direction.

Francis looked on in shock as the 50 and 100 dollar bills floated down and landed on his kitchen floor, the light green standing out starkly against the dark brown tile.

“She gonna do something now, huh? She gonna do something now?”

He looked up at her, her hands placed firmly on her hips.

_ “Eat or I’m calling my dad, and your old therapist _.” She threatened in French, making him do a double take. 

“_ Okay, okay, fine, calm down Amelia.” _ He said defensively, picking up a cucumber slice with dead fingers, and staring at it for a few seconds before sighing and putting it in his mouth. 

The cold skin of it hit his tongue, and he instantly regretted putting it in his mouth. It was refreshing, and he wanted more. Francis took another one as he chewed, more to appease Amelia than to actually eat. 

She seemed pleased with this, sitting down next to him, and grabbing a few out of the container as well. 

“Ain’t even have to call anyone, I’m proper proud of you uncle Francis.”

He gave a dry chuckle at this, running his finger along one of Amelia’s braids.

“You sound a lot like your dad Meli, whether you realize or not.”

She blushed, looking down at her lap. 

“You say that a lot.” 

“Cuz it’s true.”

She gave a half smile up at him. 

They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a while, before Amelia had a realization.

“Maybe we both here cuz we stay hurting the other two.”

“Like when I used to make you sit in a corner when you were mean to Mathieu?”

“Shut that shit, I hated that.” She mumbled, making him crack a pained smile. He took another slice of cucumber out of the container, knowing his stomach was bound to retaliate for this. 

“If you go that bum ass therapist, I’ll work on my GED.”

Francis whipped his head around to give her an incredulous look.

“You’ll what?”

“Get my GED.” She said quieter, looking down at her slides. 

“You’d actually do that Meli?”

The teen nodded, drawing circles on the top of a graded test with her finger. 

Francis sighed, putting his reading glasses back on.

“I don’t know how to say this, but I don’t know if I’m ready to get help yet.”

“And I don’t know if getting my GED gonna be a load of shit, or if I even gonna pass. We doing it together.”

“You convinced him to do what?”

“You heard me dad.” Amelia said triumphantly the next morning, pouring milk into her mug. 

“You’ve got to be taking the piss, I’ve been trying to convince him to go back since-“

“Mattie was in middle school? Yeah he told me bout that.”

Arthur’s mouth dropped open a bit, and he shook his head in disbelief as he took a sip.

“What convinced him?”

“I said I’d work toward gettin my GED if he went to therapy.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that first?”

She shrugged.

“Cuz his health more important.”

Arthur inwardly melted.

“This is so important as well love, I’m incredibly proud of you for deciding to do that.”

Amelia smiled, looking down at the tea she was stirring.

“I think this is almost worth breaking your diet for.” He jokingly pretended to whisper, raising his eyebrows, and smiling widely.

“Real shit?”

“Real shit Meli, I think a proper party is in order when I get home tonight.”

She grinned, blowing on her tea before taking a sip. 

“Do Francis or Mattie know yet?”

Arthur shook his head. 

“Mattie doesn’t know about you going back to school, or his dad getting help, and I just found out about both.”

“So you gonna put it in the group chat or what?”

“I just had the idea, give me time mate.”

“I’ll pitch in if you tryna get Chinese and Manhattan’s.” 

Arthur snickered at this, getting up from the table and putting his mug in the sink. 

“I’ll think about it while I’m working, yeah? Remember I’m off at 7 today.”

While Arthur was at work, Amelia spent her day making banners, and buying party supplies at the dollar store, giddy the whole time. 

She even stopped by the liquor store on her way home, grabbing rum, and a bottle of wine for Francis, though she doubted he would actually drink it. 

When she got home and had set everything up for the makeshift party, she hesitantly called Ivan.

“Who’d you beat up Meli?” He answered flatly, making her glare at her fridge as she held the phone.

“I ain’t beat anybody up, why the hell you asking that?” She gritted, hearing him laugh on the other end.

“Well? Sup with you then?”

Amelia took a deep breath, switching her phone to her other hand.

“I’m goin back to school.”

There was a momentary pause, which felt like a lifetime.

“You getting your GED?”

She nodded, despite being on a phone call. 

“No fakin?”

“No fakin baby.” She said excitedly, looking over her nails.

“I gotta get you dinner then! We gotta celebrate! I’m so damn happy for you right now, you ain’t even know.”

“Yeah, well, my dad already throwing me and skeletor a party, so…” 

“Skeletor? The hell did he do?”

“He goin to therapy.”

Ivan nearly dropped the phone as he drove over to the duplex.

“He doing what?”

“You heard me right, it’s goin.”

He pulled into the driveway, and came around the side of the house, bouncing on his heels as he stood on the porch, waiting for Amelia to come to the door. When she opened it, Ivan excitedly hugged her, picking her up and swinging her back and forth, despite how much he was struggling to do so. 

“I’m so fuckin proud of you Meli.” He whispered as he set her back down, not realizing he was tearing up.

“Hey now Vanya, I know you ain’t crying over me.” She joked, reaching up to kiss him, grinning.

“I think you should be happier for Francis, cuz he’ll finally be healthy again.” She said quieter, making Ivan smack his lips.

“Yeah he’s important, but so are you, don’t forget that.” He reassured, closing the door, and giving Amelia’s butt a squeeze as he walked past her. She gave a sour look, pretending to be mad as she sat down on the couch. 

“Y’know, I think you’ve lost weight.” Ivan said as he plopped down next to her, twirling a lock of her dyed hair around his finger. 

“Man you fried, ain’t no way.”

“Deadass, when the last time I could pick you up like that? I think you lost some.”

She raised an eyebrow, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“You just sayin that, that’s cheese.” 

He got up suddenly, leaving her with a confused look on her face.

“I know you lost some cuz, there was, well, less ass when I grabbed at it.” He said sheepishly as he went up the stairs, returning with the bathroom scale, and setting it on the tiles in the kitchen.

“Get on Meli.”

She smacked her lips, but got on anyway, drumming her fingers on her thigh as she waited for the number to load. 

“220?”

“That’s less, ain’t it?”

Amelia nodded in disbelief.

“I was 233 when skeletor took me to a doctor.”

Ivan smiled, hugging her from behind.

“Another reason to celebrate, I’m so proud.”

  
  


Arthur came home with a bucket of fried chicken in hand, smiling to himself when he saw the decorations Amelia had put up, and doing a double take when he saw weight loss on one of the spray painted banners.

“Meli! You’ve lost weight?”

“She lost 13 pounds!” He heard Ivan say happily, waving to Arthur from the kitchen. He struggled to wave back, setting the bags of takeout down on the coffee table and walking into his kitchen.

“You’ve decided to join our celebration as well Ivan?”

The teen nodded, taking a large bottle of champagne from the fridge, and setting it on the counter.

“Figured y’all might need this, since we celebrating all different things tonight.”

Arthur looked up at Ivan gratefully, realizing that he could actually be a potentially good influence on Amelia.

“That we are mate, are you sure you don’t want to be paid back for the champagne? That looks like an expensive bottle.”

Ivan waved it off, smiling widely.

“It’s a gift Mr. Jones, don’t worry.”

“You’re a good man Ivan, thanks for being so supportive of Amelia.”

He blushed, looking down at his socked feet, looking back up when he heard the front door open.

“Okay uncle Francis, open your eyes now!”

Amelia took her hand off Francis’ eyes, and he nearly teared up at the display in front of him.

Matthew was standing next to a banner that read ‘Happy Recovery!’ in rainbow graffiti letters, smiling widely as his dad came in, coming over and hugging him once his eyes were open.

_ “Happy recovery papa.” _ He whispered, leading his dad into the kitchen, where the other three waited with the bottle of champagne, and blowouts.

Arthur, Amelia, and Matthew all blew on their noisemakers, while Ivan popped the bottle, the spray getting mostly in Arthur’s hair.

“Who want some?”

Everyone put their hands up, and Amelia counted to herself as she poured it into various mis matching cups from their cabinets, dishing one out to everyone, and pouring herself the biggest glass.

“How much you want Francis?”

He thought for a few long seconds before smiling anxiously.

“Same as you’d give anyone else.”

The teen nodded, giddy as she poured a normal sized glass, and raising her travel mug high into the air.

“To recovery!”

“To recovery!” Everyone else echoed, cups clinking against each other.

* * *

Govna- read the prologue hoe :)

Abel De Boer- He casually has no canon last name?? But yeah, De Boer is a popular Dutch last name that means gardener or farmer, and y’all already _ know _ Abel a good gardener

Alfred- I just had to

Crawfish- Louisiana specialty, you gotta twist the head off to eat them, it grosses me the hell out

Boof- I didn’t realize this wasn’t a thing outside Cleveland til a few weeks ago? But basically saying something’s wack 

Nutty bars- God’s (or little Debbie’s) gift to man

Fried- outside CLE means high, but means stupid here as well

Don't forget about r/thisisstillamericaart, I just posted a bunch of new art on there!


	9. Recovery

I’m not used to writing, well, fluff and happiness, so enjoy?

* * *

  
  


Arthur accompanied Francis to his first dietician’s appointment a week later at his request, and was given his neighbor’s meal plan. Francis gave him written permission to talk to his therapists and doctors freely, and let him come along to sessions when he wasn’t working. The meal plans were posted on both sides, and Arthur made sure to eat with Francis whenever he was home during dinner time. Otherwise, he had Amelia and Matthew let him know how he was doing, and overall felt good about how his on and off boyfriend was progressing in his recovery. He seemed to be coming to life a little more each day, and Arthur found himself getting the best sleep he’d had in years, knowing that Francis was doing well and taking care of himself.

Amelia’s GED was a different story though.

Early on, they both decided that the high school equivalency test was better for her in the future than the regular GED, and Arthur gave parental permission without hesitation.

Amelia, who barely passed anything when she was still in school, was becoming increasingly frustrated with every practice problem and test she had to do. Gil tried his best at helping her with math, but in true Amelia fashion, she would eventually stop listening altogether. 

“Meli, think of when we harvesting and don’t know exactly how many pounds it’ll be, think of pounds as x-“

“Bullshit, that’s why you do all this.” She said in frustration, running a hand through her hair. 

“Me and the boys can’t help you on yo test, that’s why I’m helping now. Honesty, I’d do this lil test for fun, but you gotta do it yourself.” 

Amelia put her head down on her kitchen table, furrowing her brows at the offending piece of paper, and pushing Gil’s stolen graphing calculator out of the way with her pencil. 

“I ain’t ever gonna pass this stupid ass test.” She mumbled, catching Arthur’s attention from where he was making dinner behind her. He sat down across from his daughter, and playfully poked her forehead. 

“You _ can _ do this love, you just have to keep working at it. Remember when you played basketball at the park and kept losing until you started practicing?”

She nodded, giving a watery half smile at her memories of shooting hoops after school when she was younger.

“Think about this test like playing against the older kids, yeah? How about you both take a break from maths for now, and come back to it later?”

Gil nodded, motioning for Amelia to hand him his calculator. She gave it to him, and leaned back in her chair, staring defeatedly at the living room.

Arthur gave her a reassuring pat on the back as he went back to the stove, smiling to himself as he watched Gil pull out the practice problems for the social studies portion of the test. 

“And Ivan is coming over tomorrow to help with writing, yeah?”

Amelia nodded, accepting a can of sparkling water from her dad, and handing a can of grape soda to Gil. 

“You doing really fuckin well with yo diet and whatever, I’m deadass surprised.”

She shrugged, smiling smugly. 

“Ivan said he taking me to Victoria’s Secret when I hit 200, that’s the only thing keepin me going.” She whispered, earning her a look of mild disgust from Arthur.

“Do whatever you want, but don’t let me hear about that Amelia, spare me pet.”

Both teens laughed at his expression, with Gil putting his feet up on the table and taking his phone out as Amelia worked. 

Arthur looked over his shoulder and glared, and he scrambled to get his feet back on the floor. 

“Soup is almost ready, make room on the table, and tell them lot next door they can come over.” He said calmly, squinting at Gil once Amelia left. 

“Whatchu on govna? I’m helping MiMi.”

“That’s nice, but keep your feet off my table.”

He switched off the stove, and turned around to face Gil.

“Are you staying for dinner?”

“Naw, me and the boys getting burgers, guess I'ma go now.”

Arthur gave a half wave goodbye as the teen took his calculator, put on his jacket and backpack, and opened the door for the three as they came in. 

“Right then Francis, soup is ready, but your sandwich is still cooking, would you prefer to wait?”

The older man shook his head, sitting down and looking at the bowl set in front of him apprehensively. 

“What’s in this?”

“Different types of squash, chicken broth, tomato, sweet potato, and cous cous. It’s diabetes friendly for Meli, but still tastes nice.”

Francis nodded, stirring the steaming liquid for a while before gathering a spoonful, staring at the cous cous and soft squash in the transparent scarlet broth. He hesitated before putting it in his mouth, clenching his other hand into a fist under the table. 

Arthur set the panini down next to the bowl soon after, gently reminding him to drink his glass of orange juice as well. 

Amelia and Matthew ignored the spectacle, talking amongst themselves instead, leaving their parents alone as Francis slowly ate his meal, encouraged by Arthur. 

Long after Amelia and Matthew had gone upstairs, he finished his meal, rewarded by a wide smile and kiss to the forehead. 

“I’m well proud, this is the third day in a row you’ve finished your dinner.” Arthur said over his shoulder as he washed dishes, smiling back at him.

Francis gave a pained half smile back, leaning back in the chair, and trying to avoid thinking about how awful he felt emotionally and physically in that moment. 

“I think that was too acidic.” He finally said as the two of them cuddled in the living room, making Arthur frown a bit, and get up. The younger man returned with a bottle of antacids not long after, guilty expression on his face. 

“Is the orange juice and tomato too much for one meal?” He said softly, running his fingers through Francis’ thin graying hair. Feeling pathetic, he nodded, pouring two tablets into his palm, and chewing them, laying his head on Arthur’s shoulder. 

He continued to run his fingers through Francis’ hair, pausing to get a better look at him.

His face had begun to subtly fill out, his blue eyes becoming brighter and more lifelike, and his skin no longer waxy and stretched over his cheekbones.

“You look so beautiful right now.” Arthur whispered,holding Francis closer to him, not as worried about being able to feel his ribs through his shirt.

“What, having acid reflux?” Francis laughed bitterly, being shushed by Arthur.

“You’re taking care of yourself, and don’t think I haven’t noticed you beginning to wear makeup again.”

The older man hid his face as it went red.

“You noticed? I did it for you.”

“It looks absolutely brilliant, and so do you.”

  
  


Luther, Gil, and Abel sat at a booth at a Swenson’s in the suburbs, finalizing their plans for the Canada trip.

Gil pulled a large road map from his backpack, where he had highlighted and planned every part of their trip, even down to how often they’d need to stop for gas or food. Burger in one hand, he explained the route he and Abel had planned to Luther in hushed German, his taped together reading glasses at the very tip of his nose.

Luther nodded in understanding once Gil had explained every little detail, hoping he was finally done.

_ “I have one question though, where’s Meli in all this?”_

The albino sighed, grabbing a handful of cheese fries from the paper boat.

_ “Govna said he’d call the police if she wasn’t at home every night, so she’s not coming.”_

_ “That sucks, isn’t she the only one who speaks french too?”_

Gil nodded, shrugging.

Abel cleared his throat after taking a sip from his milkshake.

“Okay,now repeat the plan for tomorrow morning.”

Luther leaned back in the booth as Gil began carefully folding up the map, giving Abel a bored expression

.

“We meet you, who has the car, on Saint Claire and Superior, and from there we take I-90, merge onto 322, drive that to hell, and then we’re staying overnight in Scranton.”

Abel nodded to confirm he was correct.

“And the second day.”

  
Luther groaned, deciding to take a bite out of one of his fried mushrooms instead of responding just yet.

“We ain’t have all day foreign Bullshit.”

“Fine, after motel breakfast, we get on to I-81, and ride until we hit I-84, then do I-87 til we hit the border. Then we’ll have the boys in Canada give us further instructions once we’re in.”

The other two nodded, and cleared him as being fully prepared for the trip.

At 6am sharp the next morning, Luther and Gil met Abel on St. Clair, car in tow in an empty lot.

“This hoe is _ nice _, where you get it?” Gil asked in amazement, running his nearly white finger along the exterior of the black car.

“Guy who sell us clones heard bout our trip and getting the house busted, so he hooked us up with a dude onna west side that we renting this from.”

“Raw.” He whispered, still looking at the car in awe as he put his suitcase in the trunk. Abel rolled his eyes, getting in the driver’s seat,and making sure that everyone was in the right place.

“Bullshit, you got the timer for when you gonna drive?”

He nodded, opening a bag of hot chips, and gesturing to his phone.

“Luther, where I start?”

“Turn right, why can’t we do this shit digitally?”  
Abel smacked his lips, putting his arm over the passenger seat’s headrest as he reversed.

“Cuz if you print out instructions in a library, they ain’t able to track yo ass with a GPS.”

Luther rolled his eyes at this, hating being stuck navigating, as the only one without a license.

“Remember to cross them shits off with sharpie when you done foreign Bullshit.” 

“I know I know, hop off my dick Abel.” He gritted, uncapping the thick marker, and crossing off the first few instructions.

“We allowed to smoke in this car? Since we renting it and whatever.” 

“Gil,you fuckin crackhead, can yo ass wait a couple hours? We ain’t even left the east side yet.”

“We was running late, I had to get Gilbird’s shit ready for Mattie’s house, and I can’t smoke round him.”

“You dumb as hell, wasn’t you at Meli’s last night anyway?”

“Yeah, but Mattie came by this morning to get him, and I was tryna spend one more night with him.”

“You love that bird whole life huh.”

“Tell me bout it.” Luther mumbled, earning him a glare from Gil.

  
  


Matthew looked cautiously at the cockatiel perched on his dresser, grooming himself.

_ “Mathieu, get ready, and put that bird in its cage.” _ Francis yawned as he walked past Matthew’s room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

_ “Papa, I don’t want to touch it.”_

Francis exhaled frustratedly, poking his head into his son’s room.

_ “Then why did you agree to watch it?”_

_ “Meli was his only other option, and they smoke like a factory over there.”_

He had to laugh at that, knowing Matthew was right.

_ “It’ll perch on your hand right?” _

Matthew nodded, and Francis approached the bird, holding his hand out apprehensively. Gilbird shrieked, and sunk his beak deep into Francis’ bony finger, making him scream loud enough that it woke Arthur up.

_ “Couyon bastard made me bleed.” _ He hissed, making Matthew double over with laughter.

Francis eyed the bird warily after shaking it off his hand, watching him go back to grooming his left wing, and shaking himself up.

_ “How can something that cute be so mean?”_

_ “You say the same about Arthur.”_

_ “Mathieu!” _

The teen shrugged, getting off his bed, and squeezing past his dad to start his shower.

  
  


“Aye Meli! We live out here!” Gil shouted over facetime once they were an hour into Pennsylvania, moving his phone around to show everyone in the car.

“Foreign ain’t lookin too good, sup with him?”  
Luther weakly raised a hand to wave, looking nearly green.

“Apparently he get carsick when he read inna moving car, now I’m navigating.” He said loudly, making Luther glare at him.

“Y’all gotta get him some medicine or some shit, he look bout 5 minutes from death.”

_ “She’s right.” _Luther mumbled in German,curling in on himself and hiding his face.

“You want me to tell Chyna y’all dumb asses lettin him suffer like that? Get my mans some ginger ale.”

“Fine, we getting off at the next exit, happy Meli?”

“Feel better Luther.”

He mumbled a thank you, and laid down in the backseat, shutting his eyes tight.

As Abel took the nearest exit, he took too wide of a turn, and ran the back wheel over a curb, shaking up everyone in the car. They didn’t think anything of it until they heard sirens, and Gil looked out the rearview mirror to see a squad car coming right for them. He sunk down in the seat, staring blankly ahead as Abel pulled over.

“We so fucked.” Abel mumbled to himself as he parked his car, rolling down the window, and waiting for the inevitable.

“Do you know why I pulled you over today?”

  
  


“If you can’t finish it’s okay, but try your best.” The school nurse assured Francis, sitting with her legs crossed in his empty classroom, doing paperwork while keeping an eye on him.

“Thanks for making me feel like a child De’August.” He scoffed, picking at what felt like the biggest container of alfredo he had ever seen.

She chuckled to herself, shaking her head as she continued to do paperwork.

“Can’t say I ever done nothing like this for a coworker, this weird as hell for me.”

Francis nodded in agreement, giving the neverending bowl a sick look, and stabbing at another mouthful.

“Don’t think I ain’t see you only eating the vegetables sugar.” 

He clicked his tongue, taking a forkful of just pasta. He still avoided the breaded chicken, which he assumed was probably fried, knowing Arthur.

“Don’t forget the chicken too, unless you tryna drink some boost.”

He gave a look of disgust, and the middle aged woman got up from the rickety student desk, standing next to where he was sitting.

“Having to stand over people is fucked, whether they thirteen or fifty.”

“I’m forty eight.” Francis mumbled indignantly, glaring up at her. 

He took a few more bites before leaning back in his office chair, in pain.

“I can’t eat any more of this.” He said defeatedly, which she wrote down on a clipboard, and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Do you want to wait a bit before the boost?”

Francis nodded, closing his eyes for a few seconds, wishing the ache would dissipate. He heard the woman leave the room, and had an idea. An awful idea, but still an idea.

What had _ always _ helped him with stomach pains in times like this?

He waited a few more minutes of hoping his stomach would settle, before making his way to the staff restroom, unlocking the door with shaking hands and a tense half smile.

The staff restroom looked like a palace in that moment, as Francis locked the door behind him, and crouched down on the tile. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it as he rubbed chapstick on his knuckles and fingertips, and taking a deep breath before sticking two fingers into his mouth.

After washing his hands, and slapping some color back into his cheeks, he checked his phone, and felt his heart sink.

_ How was lunch today?_

Did he want to lie to Arthur?

_ I didn’t finish, I think you switched my lunch with Meli’s by accident lol _

He sighed, guilt eating him alive as he walked back to his classroom.

No one has to know, he reasoned, knowing in his heart that was absolutely not true.

  
  


“License and registration?” The apathetic officer asked, which Abel handed over, assured in the fact that the man they were renting from forged registration papers for them, to make it look like it was his mom’s car.

“And who is Doortje De Boer to you?”

“My momma, she gave me permission to drive to see my cousins in Scranton.” He lied effortlessly, making sure to ‘talk suburban’. 

The stern faced man nodded, handing his license and papers back to Abel.

“Care to explain your antics back there?” He asked, using his thumb to motion to where they had gotten off the exit, and ran over the curb.

He pretended to look ashamed, scratching the back of his neck.

“My cousin back there is carsick, and we wa- were trying to get him to a gas station so we could get him medicine and let him throw up.”

The officer walked to the back of the car, peering through the window to see where Luther was curled up in the back seat, green. He felt bad for the teens,and let them go, wishing Luther luck in feeling better, and giving them directions to the nearest gas station. Gil and Abel thanked him profusely, and waited until he drove away to breathe again.

“Holy fuck, you saved us Luther.” Gil said shakily, turning to where his cousin was giving him a weak thumbs up.

“Can we go to the gas station for real though?”  
Abel nodded.

“You can get whatever the hell you want, on me, you saved our asses.”

Luther nodded sickly, putting his head back down on the seat, and wishing for death. 

Arthur sighed heavily as he walked through the door, dreading the fact that he would have to make three different versions of the same meal again tonight. He half considered just having him and Matthew just eat the diabetes friendly version, and save himself the time. It wasn’t fair to Matthew though, he thought bitterly, looking at the meal plan hanging on his fridge, and getting out the corresponding ingredients. 

He was pleased to see Amelia drawing at the kitchen table, and smiled at her when she noticed him there. She gave a half wave in return, putting her earbuds back in, and picking up a black sharpie. The two of them worked in their respective silences for a while, before Amelia turned to where he was browning the meat for dinner.

“Am I allowed to know what Francis weigh?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow at this, wiping his hands off with a hand towel, and facing her.

“Why do you want to know Meli?”

  
“Morbid curiosity.”

He couldn’t blame her.

“Don’t let Matthew know, yeah? Not under any circumstance, ever.”

She nodded, moving her legs to sit backwards in the chair.

“Last appointment I was at, 105 pounds.”

“Hunnid five?” She said incredulously, resting her head on her arms.

“Hundred and five, the number was shocking to me too.”

“Damn, I ain’t realize he weighed _ that _ little.”

All he could do was shrug, turning back to the pan when the grease from the meat started popping.

“Since you’re the only one having tofu, do you want to come season it to your liking love?”

“Tofu some rich people bullshit, I been telling you that.”

“Are you seasoning it or not?” Arthur huffed, glaring in her direction. She smacked her lips, but came over anyway, opening her cabinet and grabbing a bottle of hot sauce and different spice containers.

“Why we got bougie ass food suddenly? I know it ain’t cuz we came up on some money outta nowhere.”

Arthur sighed, putting the lid back on the meat.

“Honestly? Francis put me in charge of his whole life food wise, and gave me his monthly food budget for him and Mattie.”

“Is that why y’all been spending so much more time together?” She teased, pouring hot sauce with a heavy hand into the crumbled tofu on the stove, turning it orange.

“Don’t start with that, it’s complicated right now.”

“If y’all start fuckin again, do it on his side.” She said nonchalantly, stirring the tofu and adding lime juice to it.

Arthur bit his lip angrily, staring at the wall and counting to ten.

“Me and Francis are two adults in our own homes, you and Ivan are not.”

“What Ivan gotta do with this?”

“What Ivan gotta do with this? Take that bandana off Meli, and tell me that I’m wrong.”

She shot him a dirty look, sitting back down and adjusting the bandana around her neck. He smiled smugly to himself, turning the stove off.

“Can you get-”

“The lot of them from next door? Yeah, I’ll be back.”

Amelia and Matthew watched as Arthur got closer and closer and closer to Francis throughout dinner, a loving look in his eyes. 

“Somebody horny.” Matthew whispered, making Amelia hold back a laugh. 

Francis looked down at his plate, face red as Arthur kissed the side of his temple before standing up and getting seconds. 

“Should we get y’all some privacy?” Amelia scoffed when her dad sat back down, and he scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“Maybe?”

“Two adults in our own homes.” She said sarcastically, making herself another taco, and motioning for Matthew to follow her next door. 

The front door shut, and the two men looked at each other awkwardly. 

“It’s been a while, hm?” 

“It has been.” Francis said quietly, pushing the last of his red beans and rice around in the bowl with his spoon. 

“When you finish, we can do anything you want.” 

He raised an eyebrow at this as he ate a spoonful of rice. 

“That’s tempting,” He said as he wiped his mouth with a paper napkin, slouching down in his chair, “But I can’t finish this and a taco, can we still do _ anything? _”

Arthur sighed, twirling a lock of fragile hair around his finger.

“Have one of the drinks, and I’ll see what we can do, yeah?” He said softly, standing up and taking one of the bright red bottles out of the refrigerator, shaking it up before handing it to Francis. 

He hesitantly popped open the cap , making a face of mild disgust as the artificially sweet chalky smell hit his nose. 

“Hold your nose, think of me.” 

The older man gave a look of defeat, shuddering before putting it to his lips. Sip by awful sip he drank it, feeling disgusted and even worse than he had before. 

Arthur kissed his forehead when he was done, smiling widely.

“Here now, don’t cry, you did it.” He said soothingly as a few tears rolled down Francis’ cheeks. 

“Stand up, trust me.” Arthur said with a playful glint in his eye, watching him get up with a wince. 

Before he realized what was happening, Francis was being carried bridal style, and he screamed in surprise.

“Mon Dieu! Put me down!” He shouted, laughing maniacally, and putting his thin arms around Arthur’s neck.

Amelia gave Matthew a strange look from the other side of the wall, which he shrugged at, going back to playing xbox. 

“I take this as us being back together then cher?”

Arthur nodded, accepting a kiss from Francis, and smiling.

“I consider this being back together, don’t you?”

Francis ran a calloused finger along Arthur’s industrial piercing, and nodded.

  
  


* * *

Y’all really think I wouldn’t research the whole route to Canada for one chapter of my fic? It’s the legit route, _ trust me _.

Couyon- Louisiana French word, means crazy in a crackhead kinda way

The boys getting pulled over for that- Pennsylvania police _ stay _ on some fried shit, every time I been there someone get pulled over for something Ohio police wouldn’t even blink at

Boost- a meal replacement drink, the bane of any recovering anorexic’s existence 


	10. Canadian Disappointment

Apparently a ton of my readers European? Tf y’all doing reading about the ghetto lmaooo

* * *

Gil cheered when he saw the first highway signs for Canada on the second day of driving, excitedly hitting his fist against the outer frame of the steering wheel. 

“If you fuck up this car I’m throwing yo ass in the lake when we get back home.” Abel hissed, reading a text from the group they were supposed to meet in Canada on his burner, which he’d purchased in upstate New York, after Gil spilled bong water on his other one.

“Yeah but we so close! Only two more hours driving through Yeehaw, Vermont.”

Luther laughed at his comment, shaking his head as the pines flew by.

_ “You excited to see Chyna when we get home?”_

The sixteen year old nodded excitedly, grinning from ear to ear.

_ “She said she has a huge surprise for me when I come back! I can’t wait.”_

Gil smiled too, turning to Abel.

“You ain’t excited?”

  
“You ain’t worried bout border patrol?” He retorted, looking up from his phone to give his overly enthusiastic partner a stern look.

“I leave that worrying shit to you, I’m too awesome for that.” Gil laughed, motioning for Abel to hand him his big gulp full of iced coffee.

“Remember that we switching places half a hour before the border, I ain’t about to let yo dumb ass talk to border patrol.” He said as he handed Gil the large plastic cup, giving it a small shake and watching all the sugar settle back to the bottom.

_ “If you weren’t the one paying me, I’d punch you.” _ Gil mumbled to himself in German as he took a sip of his coffee, earning him a concerned look from the back seat.

“I know I shouldn’t ask, but what if we get caught?” Luther asked as they got closer to the border, the full implications of what they were doing beginning to set in.

“First of all, you ain’t speak English if we do.” Abel snorted, taking a bite of a honeybun before continuing.

“We also not gonna mention anyone at home, even Meli, we ain’t like Te’Ron out here.”

“Damn, not even Meli?”

Abel nodded, smacking his lips at Gil.

“Apparently she going to school and whatever now, don’t fuck that up for her.”

“I know she in school, I be the one tryna teach her math.” Gil fake groaned, earning him a collective eye roll.

“You know she gonna quit anyway, this Amelia we talking bout here.” He laughed, taking a sip from his coffee.

“Give her a chance, Chyna said she’s trying really hard.” Luther tried to protest, drowned out by the other two laughing at the mere _ idea _ of her completing school.

  
  


“They some real life dumbasses.” Ivan said half heartedly as he proof read Amelia’s writing portion of a practice test, only half listening to what she was going on about regarding the trio.

“God,your grammar is awful.” He mumbled to himself, using one of Francis’ red pens to correct another sentence.

“It ain’t that bad.”

“Did you just hear yourself Meli? You can’t use the word ‘ain’t’ in a written response like this.”

He squinted at the paper, and waved his hand in a confused motion.

“Why the hell you put a u in everything?”

“Cuz that’s how you spell it, right? Ain’t wrong.”

He sighed, rubbing the side of his temple.

“How you draw so well but write so shitty?”

She laughed, shrugging.

“If I knew, I’d do something about it.”

“...Which you doing right now, now rewrite this with decent grammar.” He said as he passed the piece of looseleaf paper back to her, grabbing another for her to rewrite it on.

“This some cheese and you know it.” She gritted, uncapping her black pen, and copying down his corrections alongside her original response.

He sat and watched her work with a glazed look in his eyes, getting a good look at her. 

She’d definitely lost some weight off her face, and he could see it in her arms as well. He watched as her hoop earrings moved with her, her brows furrowed in concentration. 

“You look really pretty right now.”

She looked up, smacking her lips and looking him over.

“I’m doing homework in my pajamas, but thanks?”

He smiled softly, hoping that he could remember how she looked in that moment forever. 

When she went back to her work, Ivan pulled his phone out and took a picture, smiling before putting it back in his pocket.

  
  


“Reasons for entering Canada?”

“Going on vacation.” Abel answered nervously, handing over everyone’s passports.

“And for how long?”

Abel and Gil looked at each other.

“Probably bout a week.”

“Any weapons?”

“...nope.”

Gil stared down at his black Air Forces, beginning to have regrets about going through with this.

“Step out of the car please.”

“Step out the car? The fuck?” Abel mumbled to himself, unbuckling his seatbelt, and motioning for Luther to follow. The teens were escorted to a sterile building and told to wait for further instructions.

They looked at each other in silence through a large window as they watched in horror at the car being searched.

“My glock in the glove box.” Gil whispered after a while, eyes going wide.

“You brought your glock?” Abel hissed, making Luther put his head between his legs.

A silence fell over the three of them as they watched one of the agents hold up a jar. That one agent called over two others, who began pulling out container after container from their suitcases.

“My momma gonna kill me bro.” Gil whispered, putting his head in his hands.

Half an hour later, the original agent came back in, and read them their rights before putting all three in cuffs and leading each of them to separate interrogation rooms.

“My cousin don’t speak English, why y’all putting him away.” Gil said indignantly, whipping his head around to face the uniformed man leading him.

“We all underage, y’all know that shit wrong.” He shouted as the door closed, leaving him alone in a cold concrete room, lit only by overhead fluorescent lights. The teen eventually gave up struggling against his cuffs, staring blankly at the wall and accepting his fate.

Luther was in tears as he was led to the room, keeping with the ploy that he spoke no English by repeatedly asking the officer in German what was happening.

“No English.” He eventually cried out, tears spilling down his cheeks.

Once he was in the room, the man leading him asked what language he spoke, then left.

The sixteen year old sobbed until he was seemingly out of tears, before he realized something.

_ Gilbert Beilschmidt _ was the reason why he was here.

Not Abel, not Amelia, or Ivan.

Gil.

_ I’m gonna kill him when I get out of this room. _

  
  


“I think they got caught.” Amelia said to Ivan as they ate lunch, sliding her phone across the table. He picked it up, and raised an eyebrow once he read the snapchat story.

“Aye fuck border patrol, they making us get out the car lmao.” He imitated in Gil’s nasally voice, rolling his eyes.

“Some real life dumbasses out here, who put getting arrested on they snapchat?”

“It’s them fuckin forces man.”

Ivan snorted at this, trying to keep himself from laughing.

“If you don’t get yo ass on somewhere Meli.” He said through a laugh, taking a bite from his sandwich.

“Te’Rat gave his in to the police when he snitched, gave up his life of crime and shit.”

He put his sandwich down, laughing so hard that tears came to his eyes.

“Oh yeah, the rest of his shit sold yesterday, so after I get my take, that’s all yours.”

Amelia smiled widely, setting her fork down.

“How much we bring in?”

“$20,000.”

She looked up in shock.

“That much?”

“Well yeah, it’s good shit, and I was selling it in the suburbs.”

She walked over to where he was sitting and hugged him tight.

“This mean so much to me, you don’t even know.”

“I’m still gettin $4500 for facilitating allat, but the rest is yours baby.”

She gave a low whistle as she leaned against the sink.

“I ain’t ever seen that much money before, that’s almost what my dad make in a year.”

“I got one rule with the money though.”

Amelia laughed a bit.

“Yeah, sure, what is it?”

  
“Don’t flex.”

She gave him an incredulous look.

“Don’t flex?”

He nodded.

“That’s how people get caught, and you probably already on they radar since they got the other three.”

“Damn, I was boutta have some fun with it though.”

“Not saying you can’t spend it.” He sighed, resting his arm on the back of the chair as he turned around to face her.

“You know why my dad never gone to the pen? Cuz we live in the hood and pay for everything in cash, even though all the higher ups clown him for it.”

“And y’all got good lawyers, don’t forget bout that.”

“Not important right now Meli, just remember, _ don’t flex _.”

“....right then.”

“You gotta promise to be smart with it, I don’t want either of us locked up.”

“Swear, on dead hoes.”

“On dead hoes, or else.”

She went up the stairs, returning with a calculator and multiple shoe boxes filled with cash.

“With everything I done since summer, I could get my dad a car, and maybe even move us.” She said in a dreamy tone, a sloppy smile crossing her entire face.

“Hard work pays off, what can I say.”

The teen nodded as she started taking stacks out of the boxes, the smile never leaving her face as she counted what she laid out on the counter.

“That’s bout $24,000, holy fuck.”

She paused, resting her head against the cabinet and looking dreamily into the distance.

“Man, he won’t even know what hit him when there’s a car sitttin in the driveway.”

Ivan gave her a stern look.

“He’s a dude in the hood who on EBT, do a payment plan, don’t buy it all in one go.”

Amelia smacked her lips, looking down at the wads of cash surrounding her.

“Seriously? My dad never had a car before, even in England.”

“Don’t matter, you gonna do a payment plan, or I’m keeping all that money.”

“Yo bitch ass would never.”

“You ain’t going to prison, and neither am I hoe. This basically a RICO case, those are hell in court, trust me.”

“Lil mob boy, aww.” Amelia mocked as she counted hundred dollar bills, nearly dropping it when he stood up to his full height, close to 6’5, with a dark,stone cold expression.

“Don’t start that shit Jones, my family whole operation at stake if you fuck this up, understand?”

She looked up at him, feeling her blood run cold.

“I understand.” The shorter of the two teens said shakily, putting the wad back on the cracked countertop gently.

“Good! We should do something to celebrate, what you thinking?”

She looked over, terrified at how quickly his mood changed.

“I was thinking of keeping shit lowkey like you said.” She said , giving a nervous smile.

He nodded, plopping back down onto the backwards chair.

“That’s cool, you drawn anything lately?”

“Yeah, it’s that pic of skeletor and Mattie I been working on.” She faked a yawn, hoping to end this weird tension as soon as possible.

“Tryna take a nap?”

“Yeah sure! Lemme help you pick allat up.”

She gave an anxious side glance as he hummed a Kendrick Lamar song while helping her put the money back in the shoe boxes.

Amelia was on high alert the entire time they were in bed together, sleeping fully clothed, and keeping her taped together adidas slides next to her bed. She made a mental note that her glock was in the nightstand if he tried anything crazy, and eventually let herself fall into a restless sleep.

She woke up to her phone ringing from an unknown number, and reached over to grab it before it stopped.

“Sup?” She said groggily, rubbing her eyes with one hand.

“Meli?”

“Yeah?”

“This Gil, we was arrested at the border.”

“I had a feeling, they brought yo ass in for them trifling ass forces.” She joked, sitting up and turning on the lamp.

“Shut that shit man, this is urgent.”

“I’m listening, whatchu on?”

There was a moment of silence as Gil collected himself.

“I’m going to jail in Cuyahoga cuz apparently I got a warrant there that I ain’t know about, but I don’t know bout Luther or Abel.”

Amelia sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You seen them since you was arrested?”

“No, but we all know yo address.”

“That’s all we can do for now, huh?”

“Guess so, hopefully you can see me soon Meli, and lemme know what the rest the boys up to if they write you.”

“I will, stay safe out here Bullshit.”

He hung up on the call, and Amelia put her head against the headboard, waking Ivan.

“The boys were arrested, Bullshit just called me from god knows where.”

Ivan groaned, looking up from the pillow.

“Told you they was arrested, where they at?”

She shrugged, tearing up a bit.

“Gil going to county cuz he got a warrant here, but I have no idea where Luther or Abel gonna be at.”

The teen sniffled.

“I don’t know where they at.”

“Hey there baby, we’ll find out, okay?” He said gently, wrapping his arms around her.

“I grew up with those dumbasses, you understand? And Luther is so young, what’s boutta happen to him?” She sobbed into Ivan’s chest as he rubbed circles into her back.

“He mention bail or bond?”

Amelia shook her head, crying harder.

“When he get to county, we’ll see, okay? We probably got the money to at least bond him out.”

“Hope so.” She mumbled, looking down at the faded pattern of her comforter, colors blurring together from being teary eyed.

“They gonna be okay Meli, promise.”

“God, I gotta tell Chyna her man locked up, she’s gonna lose her mind.”

Ivan grimaced, being very familiar with Chyna’s overly dramatic personality.

Arthur had a feeling something was off when he walked in the house after work, used to hearing music playing or the smell of what Amelia had for dinner when he walked in. But it was eerily silent, with all the lights turned off.

“Amelia?” He called out, kicking off his work boots, and making his way up the stairs. Her bedroom door was open only a crack, and he could only see the silhouette of someone laying in bed, room completely dark. Arthur quietly snuck in, coming around the side of the bed to see Amelia’s tear stained face as she slept, surrounded by junk wrappers and used tissues.

He decided the lecture about her blood sugar could wait, as whatever had happened was a much more pressing issue.

He gently shook his daughter awake, cringing at the crinkling of wrappers underneath him.

“Meli? Love, what happened?”

When she fully woke up and saw who it was, she hugged him tight, and almost immediately began tearing up again.

“There there, what happened?” He cooed softly in her ear, making her really begin crying.

“The boys got locked up and I don’t know where anybody at.” She said through tears, reaching for a half eaten chocolate bar, and having her wrist grabbed by Arthur.

“We’re going to find another way to deal with this, yeah? Hiking your blood sugar will only make you feel worse, do you mind if I turn the light on?”

She shook her head, reaching into the box of tissues and blowing her nose. He leaned over and switched the overhead light on, temporarily blinding both of them.

“Now, tell me what happened, no judgement.”

Through a series of crying fits and periods where he couldn’t make out what she was saying, he finally got the full picture, feeling awful for the situation the three boys were in, regardless of how he felt about them.

“You said Gil has a warrant here, so he’ll be imprisoned over on the west side?”

She nodded, wiping her eyes.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait to write him then, huh?”

“Mattie watching Gilbird right now, I don’t know how to tell him it gonna be permanent.”

Arthur grimaced, having already heard Francis’ complaints about the bird. 

“Does Mattie know?”

Amelia shook her head, leaning on his shoulder.

“I wish I knew where they was at, at least.”

“I know, I know love.” He murmured, weaving his fingers through her hair.

After a long silence, Arthur took a deep breath, and broke the peace.

“I think we should check your blood sugar, I can’t imagine you’re in a good place right now, you probably did a fair bit of damage with all this.” He said softly, gesturing to the myriad of packaging around them. She nodded, sniffling again and looking down at her lap.

“Sorry, I ain’t know what else to do.”

“I know you’re upset, but don’t throw your body into a tailspin like this, yeah? I’ll go get the meter.” He tried reassuring, smiling at her and leaving the room. Amelia stared down at her comforter with trepidation, face drawn into a frown at the thought of having her finger pricked again. Her dad returned with the device, and sat down next to her.

“How long since you ate?”

There was a pause.

“I was sleep round four.”

“Four? Right then, it’s been about three hours.” Arthur mumbled to himself, turning the meter on and gesturing for her to hold out her finger.

She sharply inhaled as her blood was taken, turning her head away and firmly shutting her eyes.

“It’s done Meli, you’re okay.” He chuckled, turning the meter away from her as the readings loaded.

“It’s a bit high, so we’ll have a light dinner.”

“More like I’m boutta eat light, and the rest of y’all gonna be eating lavish.” Amelia said under her breath, staring angrily in the direction of her window.

“Francis has to gain weight and I’m the one who has to cook for him, we’ve been over this.”

“Whatever.”

“Can you text him and say that I’m starting dinner now?”

“We could always just knock on the bathroom wall and shout, them walls thin as hell.”

“Amelia Fi-”

“Yeah yeah, I’m doing it.”

Arthur rolled his eyes at her tone, and got off the bed.

“You gonna help me with dinner at least?”

“Depends what I’m having.” She gritted, giving him a dirty look over her shoulder.

He sighed, stopping in the doorway.

“The three of us are having fish and chips, and you’re having baked fish with a little bit of breading.”

“I can’t get a couple chips though?”

“That was the plan, but you decided to do this.” He said apathetically, gesturing to the snack wrappers littering her bed.

  
  


Francis collected himself before knocking on Arthur’s door, already able to smell his dinner. 

Or maybe his poison.

Amelia opened it and gave him a hug, which felt less bone crushing than it used to.

“Everything ready but the chips.” She said as she let them inside, plopping herself down on the couch. Matthew joined her after kicking off his slides, whispering something in her ear and making her laugh loudly.

“Gilbird bit you again?”

He laughed halfheartedly, holding his left hand up to show the bandaids on it.

“Y’all better get used to him then, cuz Gil gonna be in jail a while.”

Francis’ face fell.

“Gil got arrested?”

The teen nodded.

“The boys was arrested today tryna move five pounds into Canada.”

Matthew put his head in his hands, shaking it in disappointment.

“I told y’all that shit was stupid.” He mumbled, making Amelia smack her lips.

“Why you think I ain’t go? You stupid for real, agreeing to watch that bird.”

He picked his head up, and motioned for her to come closer.

“He gave me a rack to watch and feed him.”

She raised an eyebrow at this.

“Ain’t stupid then, my bad.”

Amelia kept glancing at Matthew throughout dinner, confusing the hell out of Arthur and Francis.

“Did Mathieu do something to you Meli?”

She looked up, face flushing.

“No! I was just thinking bout how y’all stuck with that bum ass bird.”

Matthew inwardly rolled his eyes, serving himself another piece of fish. Arthur laughed at what Amelia said, stopping when he saw Francis just pushing the food around on his plate.

“Francis, follow me mate.”

He knew what this was about, and groaned before getting up from the table and following the younger man. Arthur shut the front door and lit a cigarette, giving Francis a stern look.

“Have you been eating when I’m not breathing down your neck?”

He looked down at his neighbor’s socks, noting that one of them had a hole in the toe.

“I’m just having one of those days.”

“One of those what days? I’ll help you the best I can, but you have to tell me what’s wrong.” He pleaded, moving Francis’ face upward with his finger.

“I haven’t been in a great place mentally is all.” He mumbled, avoiding looking Arthur in the eyes.

“That’s okay, but you can’t just shut me out when it gets like this, yeah? You’ve been worrying me sick love.”

He nodded, taken aback when he was wrapped in a tight hug. The older man loosened his posture to accept, feeling the defined muscles of Arthur’s back as he reciprocated.

“Let’s go inside and talk about dinner, yeah?”

Francis nodded, grabbing his hand as they went back inside.

They earned a confused stare from their kids when they came back in, but paid them no mind.

“Take your food, and come upstairs.” Arthur ordered, grabbing his own mostly eaten plate. Francis obediently followed, looking at his plate with trepidation as he walked up the stairs. 

“Close the door behind you.”

He did as he was told, and sat down stiffly on the bed.

“I know eating in front of people is something that freaks you out, and it’s just me.”

The blond nodded, picking up the fork with shaking fingers.

“Do you want me to go on my phone?”

“Yes.”

“Right then, just let me know when you’re done.”

The two of them sat in near silence while Francis slowly ate, the only sounds being the fork hitting the plate and the faintest sound of Arthur’s music from his earbuds. 

“Arthur.”

“Yeah? Are you finished?”

He shook his head, leaning back uncomfortably.

“I can’t do this.”

Arthur put his phone down, looking over at the plate. Only a few bites remained, and he took the fork from his neighbor’s bony fingers.

“If you do one more,I’ll let you off the hook.” He said sweetly, cutting off a bite of fish with the fork and holding it to Francis’ lips. He closed his eyes tight and accepted, seeing that Arthur was beaming when he opened them.

“There it goes, you did it.”

He flushed when he got a kiss on the cheek, the septum ring tickling his cheek.

“I’m off tomorrow if you tryna sleep over.” Arthur whispered, raising an eyebrow and giving a teasing smile.

“You sound more ghetto by the day cher,” Francis laughed, earning him a sour look,"But I'd love to sleep over."

* * *

  
  


I had to do a fluffy ending after hitting y’all with that early in the chapter

Cheese- idk if this is a thing outside of this area, but like a less vulgar way of saying bullshit

Gil has strong black air force energy, idc idc (look it up if you don’t know what I’m talking about here)

On dead hoes- very Cleveland, but the original is ‘on dead n-’, which me _ and _ Meli can’t say 

I’m hood, not racist

RICO- anti-organized crime legislation, obviously a prominent worry for our boy Ivan over here

Cuyahoga- the county that Cleveland is in

Bail vs Bond- bond is a certain fraction of the bail, higher fraction depending on how severe the crime is

A rack- $1,000 in cash


	11. Blast From the Past

Despite a week in the hospital, and the holidays, I’m back hoes! Also, big thanks to [ Katatafish ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katatafish) on ao3 for writing the FrUk bit :) the only Brit I fw 

* * *

“You’re sure the kids are fine with us doing this?” Arthur asked hesitantly as Francis made his bed up, humming to himself.

“They are, I already talked to them both.” He answered with a smile, moving some hair out of his face. 

“Meli let me take your bottle of wine as well, she’s definitely fine with this.” Francis added, winking in Arthur’s direction.

He scrunched his nose up, leaning against the wall.

“You got my daughter involved?”

“So what if I did?”

The younger man sighed, giving Francis a good look over.

While still worryingly thin, he was at least confident enough to be shirtless in front of Arthur, which was probably the biggest change he’d seen in a long time. The confidence almost made him forget that he could still see Francis’ spine and some of his ribs when his back was turned, and he was okay with that for the time being. He was in such a daze that he didn’t realize Francis coming toward him, a smug look on his face.

“You like what you see?” He cooed, pushing a lock of graying hair behind his ear.

“Maybe I do.” Arthur replied softly, putting his hands on Francis’ hipbones and smiling, trying to ignore how strange the bones felt under his fingertips.

“That sweater looks awful on you Arthur, get rid of it.” The older man whispered in his ear, making him laugh.

“Right then,you fashionista.” He said jokingly, pulling it over his head and throwing it at the other man’s face. They both laughed at this, with Francis tenderly giving a peck on the lips before sashaying out of the room. 

“So fucking gay.” Arthur mumbled to himself, taking his joggers off and laying down on the neatly made bed. 

Francis returned shortly after, bottle of wine and two glasses in hand. 

“For you mon ami.” He said sweetly, filling a glass and handing it to Arthur, earning him a wide smile.

“Is this why your duvet is purple?” Arthur teased, giving a playful look upward as he took a sip. He said nothing at Francis only filling his glass a fourth of the way, putting a toned arm around him as he sat down.

With a hum, Francis moves to settle his head into the crook of Arthur’s neck. Strands of thin blonde and gray brush over the bare skin at his collar, soft breaths making his skin shiver. A light hand takes Arthur’s in its own, and slides it away by bare inches so the Frenchman can himself slide back on the bed sheet, angling his body towards Arthur’s in a swift movement. The wine in his glass barely ripples. The cracked skin of his lips finds an uncertain home on Arthur’s skin, and they’re cold to the touch.

His hand now free, Arthur moves to settle it on Francis’ knobby knee- he doesn’t react. Tentatively, he begins to slide it further up his thigh. Two shivers- Arthur, at the way his hand curls around the prominent form of Francis’ bone. Francis, at the touch that had become so strangely unfamiliar to him. Arthur is tentative, like he’s trying to approach a wild animal, and Francis’ breath quickens with every inch. When it hits his hip, his breath stops.

Both men look up, eyes wide and questioning and only mere inches away from each other. Two pairs of eyelids slide shut. Francis catches Arthur’s lips on his, and Arthur responds hungrily to the wordless consent. His tongue is restless. Blindly, the Frenchman reaches forward to take the glass from Arthur’s hand, and fumbles to set both drinks down without breaking the kiss. Safe from the risk of spilling, Francis’ hands reach up to find Arthur’s waist, as the Brit’s own move to cup his stubbled jaw. Any other day, the sharp lines would have him pausing in regretful concern. Now, there are far more important matters on his mind.

Matters such as narrowly avoiding sliding head first off the side of the bed as Francis pushes him down on the mattress. The barest hint of hesitation is still there, testing the water as he follows, not letting Arthur breathe for more than a second before catching the Brit’s lips with his own once more. The weight atop him is not enough to prevent him from pulling his legs up onto the bed to rest on either side of Francis’ body. Francis follows, tearing away and kneeling up. The mattress hardly dips beneath him.

Arthur watches as blue eyes trace the lines of his body, cold fingertips following, pushing up underneath his shirt with a quiet reverence. Francis’ chest moves like he’s just finished a marathon.

“Well?” the Brit questions impatiently, lying still and growing cold without the warmth of Francis’ breath on his neck. “Why did you stop?”

Francis fails to suppress a childish laugh as Arthur rolls them over to switch places. 

  
  


“They already drunk, listen to them.” Amelia said sarcastically, cheering when she killed Matthew’s character again.

“Meli if you don’t get yo ass on somewhere.” He gritted, putting his switch controller on the ground and pushing his glasses up his nose.

“If I don’t get my ass on somewhere, _ what _ Mattie? Finna kick yo ass again.” She laughed evilly, starting another round of Smash despite his protests. 

He reached over and turned the TV off when she left the room, giving her a smug look when she came back. She smacked her lips at him, and turned it back on.

“If you don’t stop I’ma interrupt them fuckin next door to snitch.”

Matthew had a horrified look on his face, and put his hands in a surrender pose.

From downstairs, Amelia heard her dad’s ringtone, and ran to answer it.

The area code was unfamiliar to her, but she answered anyway, looking over her nails as she accepted the call.

“Aye, who this?” She said nonchalantly, and nearly dropped the phone when someone with the same accent as her dad answered. 

“Is this Arthur’s mobile?” The unfamiliar voice asked a second time, and Amelia panicked as she scrambled to get him.

“Y..yeah he next door, I’ma go get him.” She said shakily, opening the door and frantically running to Francis’ side.

Francis answered, wearing her dad’s too large sweater, and clutching it close.

“Somebody with my daddy accent callin his phone, go get him.” She said quietly, and Francis nodded in understanding, running up the stairs and calling his name.

“He on his way, don’t hang up.” She reassured the man on the other end of the phone, who assured her it was fine.

Arthur met Amelia at the door in nothing but his pair of joggers, smelling like he’d bathed in wine and sweat.

“Hello?” He answered, fumbling with the phone a bit, and shooing her away. 

“Arthur Jones, hm?” The man on the other end answered,and Arthur felt his blood go cold.

“Allistor?”

“It’s been a few years, aye? Who was that who picked up?”

“My daughter.”He replied, sitting down on Francis’ couch and running a hand through his sweat soaked hair.

“She’d be an adult now, yeah? I can’t remember.”

“She’s seventeen, how the hell you get my number?” He said angrily, picking at a loose string on his pants.

“Remember that letter you sent mum all them years ago? I searched the address from that and found out you changed your name.”

Arthur cursed under his breath, vaguely remembering the letter he sent when Amelia was in Kindergarten.

“It was a helpful little website that, apparently you vote Democrat, are in a load of debt,have one child, and are on food assistance.”

He gritted his teeth, laying down on the couch.

“What’s the fucking point of all this?”

“I’ll be in New York for business, and wanted to visit my little brother, is that a bleeding crime?”

“New York is nowhere _ near _ Cleveland, first of all.”

There was silence on the other end.

“It's not?”

“Nope.” 

“I’ll just stay a few extra days then, I want to see you.” 

Arthur scoffed, staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s been…” He counted on his fingers,”...twelve years since I sent mum that letter, why you tryna come now?”

“Are you drunk mate?”

Arthur laughed loudly, dropping the phone on his chest.

“Hell yeah I am! I was busy with the love of my life!”

At the top of the stairs, Francis’ face went red, and he pulled Arthur’s sweater closer to him.

He looked drained when he went back upstairs, and poured the remainder of the wine bottle into his glass, filling it to the brim. 

“Who was that?” Francis asked softly, embracing Arthur from behind, and tucking hair behind his ear.

“My brother Allistor.” He gritted, staring angrily ahead as he took a sip.

“He makes me want to dye my hair green again.” 

“You look much better in blue though cher.” 

The younger man smacked his lips, and rolled his eyes as he took another sip.

“You’re supposed to talk me out of stupid ideas.”

“Father like daughter,huh?” Francis said jokingly, gently taking the overfilled wine glass from the Brit’s fingers, and taking a long sip.

Arthur laid down on the bed,smiling at how full of life Francis looked at that moment.

“You look so healthy now.”

His smile faltered when his boyfriend instinctively sucked in his stomach. He looked up at the ceiling, not even knowing what to say.

“Do you wanna just sleep?”

Francis nodded, wordlessly putting Arthur’s too large sweater on, and taking the wine glasses downstairs.

Once they were both settled in with the lights off, they both laid rigid next to each other, neither of them wanting to initiate anything. Francis eventually snuggled up though, pulling the covers over both of their heads.

“I’m sorry.” Arthur mumbled into the older man’s ribs, trying to ignore the uncomfortable chills that feeling sharp bones against his own torso gave him.

“You didn’t know.” He said quietly through a yawn, the effects of the wine and body heat beginning to lull him to sleep. 

  
  


Francis woke up first, to the sound of laughter and something cooking. He was immediately suspicious, and got dressed before heading downstairs.

_ “Morning papa!” _ Matthew said with a smile as he cooked breakfast, with Amelia giving him a wave from where she was sitting on the counter.

“Why are y’all over here?” He asked with a yawn, crossing his arms across his chest and shivering. 

“Cuz we live here? The fuck?” Amelia said sarcastically, picking up her half empty mug of tea and taking a sip.

_ “You’re damn lucky you’re not my kid.” _He grumbled under his breath, walking over to the coffee maker and retrieving a mug from above. 

Francis thanked his son for breakfast once it was ready, but stopped mid sentence when he saw the portion that was put in front of him.

“I think you have me and Meli mixed up mon lapin.” He joked nervously, hands shaking as he held the spoon.

“Naw this what’s listed on that meal plan,you tried it.” Matthew said without skipping a beat, pouring milk into his cereal. 

He looked down at the bowl of grits with a side of sausage and an apple, and felt his breath hitch. 

“I-I need to eat this upstairs.” He said frantically, grabbing his breakfast and tearing up the stairs. The two teens gave each other a look, and shook their heads as he anxiously mounted the stairs.

Francis shut his bedroom door behind him and let out a shaky breath he didn’t realize he was holding, waking Arthur.

“Smells good.” The Brit mumbled, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. He saw the way Francis was carrying himself, and sighed.

“One those mornings?”

“Yeah.” He said quietly, staring down at his feet.

“Remember what your therapist said about letting me know how you’re feeling? Let me know what you need, yeah?”

“I need...you to remind me that I have to do this.”

Arthur nodded, and walked over to hug him. 

“We’re gonna eat breakfast, and be just fine.” He said with a smile, grabbing the food from the dresser where Francis had set it down.

“It looks like Mattie gave you a little bit more than I would’ve, so I’m taking two of these.” 

The older man looked relieved as Arthur took two of the sausage links off his plate, chewing on one as he gestured for Francis to start eating.

  
  


Downstairs, Matthew shook his head as he ate his cereal, making Amelia laugh.

“He got me fucked all the way up.”

“At least they wasn’t loud this time.” She said with a shrug as she unlocked her phone. He rolled his eyes, and groaned when Gilbird began screaming upstairs.

“Bum ass bird.” He mumbled, putting his head in his hands. 

Amelia looked in the direction of the stairs before turning to Matthew.

“We visiting Bullshit in two weeks, right?”

He nodded. 

“I said in my paperwork he my cousin who I ain’t seen in a long time, so we getting 30 minutes instead of 15.”

She smiled widely, and fist bumped him. 

“You the best man, and we still saying we’re half siblings, right?”

“Don’t fuck this up Meli, they actually trust me, even with your record.”

“I swear on my daddy big ass eyebrows I won’t fuck this up.” She said in a mocking tone, holding her right hand up.

This made him laugh hysterically.

“And we gotta go to the West Side Market too, cuz that’s where I’m gonna tell my papa we was going.”

Amelia gave him a look of disbelief as she got up to put her mug in the sink.

“We lying to your dad now? Damn,you really tryna see Bullshit.”

Matthew was shaking in the driver’s seat of Francis’ car when the day came for them to leave, and kept giving nervous glances at the house as he waited for Amelia to join him. She eventually came out with a wad of bills in hand, and a smug look on her face.

“Chill, you gonna stress me out too.”

“I don’t do this kinda thing Meli.” He said with a shaky attempt at a groan.

“Man you need you a xanny or some shit, just drive.”

He smacked his lips, and put his seatbelt on before putting the ancient car in reverse.

They drove in relative silence to the county jail, and Matthew’s demeanor slowly turned from anxious to excited.

“I ain’t know you even like Bullshit like that, lil honors boy with a stupid ass...whatever he is.”

“We both know he’s smart, don’t play like that.”

She scoffed, and silently counted out the money she was holding.

“I can’t believe I’m paying his damn commissary.” Amelia mumbled to herself once she finished counting, securing the stack with a rubber band.

Check in took nearly an hour to get both of them in, and the 18 year old began looking nervous again. The long time was worth it though,when they saw Gil approach, flanked by a guard.

Both teens waved enthusiastically, and Gil grinned from ear to ear.

Amelia snatched the receiver from Matthew’s hand, and gave him the finger when he protested.

“Aye Bullshit! You looking shitty in that orange.”

He gave her an annoyed glare.

“Y’all here just to say that?”

“I got money for _ your _ commissary, shut that shit mane.”

He put his hands in a surrender pose, and laughed.

“I missed y’all so bad.”

Matthew flushed red at the way Gil looked in his direction.

He took the receiver back from Amelia, and stuttered a bit before finding the words.

“I-Gilbird is still doing good.”

The albino laughed at his hesitation, and his cheeks went pink as well.

“Sorry bout dumping him on you like that, I wasn’t expecting to get locked up.”

“Naw naw he’s good! He sings a lot, I wish I could show it to you baby.”

“Baby?” Amelia asked incredulously, crossing her arms across her chest.

He made a cutting motion across his throat, and smiled at Gil again.

“Do he still bite?”

  
“Only my papa, and Meli.” He said with a wide grin, pinching Amelia’s upper arm to imitate the cockatiel.

_ Fuck he acting brand new for? He only here cuz he 18 _She thought bitterly, giving Matthew a sour look.

Amelia cleared her throat and snatched the receiver.

“You heard anything bout Foreign or Abel?”

Gil propped his head up with his fist and sighed.

“That lil lawyer Ivan’s family use is tryna get Luther extradited to Germany, me and Abel basically fucked cuz of the quantity and my tool.”

She gave a low whistle and leaned back in her chair.

“You got any idea where either of them at? They ain’t written me.”

He shrugged, and moved the receiver to his other ear.

“That lil lawyer-”

“He got a name right?”

“I can’t pronounce it.”

She rolled her eyes, and motioned for him to continue.

“He’s tryna get us all tried in Vermont, cuz drug laws more lenient there.”

“Damn, he is good.”

A guard came up behind where the two teens were sitting and let them know their visit was over, and they both waved goodbye to Gil. On their way out, Amelia entered the commissary money into the kiosk and put his information in, earning them a look from the guard in charge.

“Mane you see the way they were looking at me? Got me fucked up.”

“Meli, you never gonna see them again, let it go.”

She smacked her lips as Matthew pulled out of the parking lot, after making her look up directions to the market.

“We been here a million times with your dad, why I gotta look up directions?”

“Cuz I never driven there from _ the fucking jail _.”

  
  


At the house, Arthur was begrudgingly in the process of arranging Allistor’s visit.

“Yeah there’s technically three bedrooms in the house, but I’m not clearing our storage room _ just _ for you to sleep there mate, forget it.”

He switched the phone to his other ear.

“No, not even for you.”

“Spoken like a true American, yeah?”

Arthur sucked his teeth, and was thankful that his older brother wasn’t within punching distance.

“I’ve lived here for 18 years, and me and Amelia are both happy with where we’re at.” He said defensively, knowing damn well they both wanted to leave the neighborhood they were in as soon as humanly possible. 

“Whatever you say you yankee fucker, but if I see one flag in your house, I’m flying home.”

“Remind me to hang one outside of me house then.”

He heard the door being unlocked, and gave Amelia a wave when she came into the kitchen.

“Aye man, I got you some that Reilly’s from West Side Market.” She said in a hushed tone as she slung a cardboard box onto the table, and opened it to take a scone out.

Arthur furrowed his brows and snapped his fingers at her when she took a bite of it.

“My blood sugar probably fine, hop off my dick.”

He told Allistor that he had to go, and hung up.

“Now, Meli, put that down.”

She smacked her lips, but took another bite before setting the scone on the top of the white box. He took a deep breath, and leaned his head on his fist.

“You’re gonna meet your uncle, my brother Allistor, for the first time in a week.”

Amelia leaned back in the chair.

“You’re fucking with me.”

Arthur shook his head.

“I wish I was.”

* * *

Notes:

West Side Market-The West Side Market is the oldest indoor/outdoor market space in Cleveland. They got everything under the sun

Commissary- For those of you lucky enough to _ not _ be familiar with the American prison system, commissary is money given by people on the outside and can be used as cash within the prison/jail 

Acting brand new- switching up what you saying/doing based on who you’re around

Reilly’s- Irish bakery at west side market, personally I fkn hate they food tho lmaoo bland as hell


	12. Prey

My beta’s favorite character is Francis, who’s yours? Lemme know! I’m curious bout this

* * *

  
  


Arthur sat out on the porch, half empty pack of cigarettes in hand as he chain smoked. 

Amelia poked her head out the door, and scoffed at the amount of butts surrounding his chair.

“Damn, you tryna choke him out when he get here?”

He glared up at his daughter, and slammed his worn lighter down on the arm of the plastic chair.

“Don’t talk to me like that, is his room clean?”

She nodded, and crossed her arms.

“Francis gonna have a fuckin stroke when he see all our stuff in the basement.”

“I pay rent here, I can do whatever I want.”

He paused to take a drag, and turned his body in her direction.

“There’s no drugs in our side, yeah?”

“Yeah, all my shit at Ivan’s.”

“Good, I don’t want him thinking you’re some kind of delinquent.”

Amelia laughed, and took one out of his carton. 

“Francis call me the French version of that.”

“I’m sure he does.”

She leaned up against the railing and lit hers, looking out at the street.

“This some ugly ass weather.”

“It reminds me a lot of home, it’s nice.”

“I see why you moved then.” She said with a laugh, earning her a playful smack to her leg.

“Don’t start with that.”He scolded, putting out the cigarette he was smoking beneath his work boots.

The two of them sat in silence and watched the cold rain for a while, and Arthur perked up when he saw a car with a lyft sticker in the window drive toward the duplex.

“I think that’s him.” He said under his breath, getting up from the chair and walking out to the cracked sidewalk.

She sat down in his chair and crossed her arms across her chest as she watched her dad, nervous about meeting her uncle for the first time.

A redhead with her dad’s eyebrows got out of the car, and embraced him.

“You’re still a fucking punk, aye?” Allistor jokingly said to Arthur as he took a large suitcase out of the trunk of the car.

“And you’re still a right arsehole.” He fired back, grabbing another suitcase and wheeling it up the walkway.

Amelia saw them coming up and propped the door open with her foot, amused at how they were already bickering.

“Y’all not gonna kill each other, right?”

Allistor laughed and ruffled her hair, despite her look of disgust.

“No no, I’m not in Rochdale no more.”

He looked out at the trash and needles on the dilapidated street, and back at Arthur.

“It sure feels like it though.”

“Why you fucking-”

Amelia gave her dad a look, and shook her head before shutting the door behind her.

“We cleaned out our storage room for you, against my best judgement.” Arthur said over his shoulder as his brother followed him up the stairs, making Allistor smile.

“Don’t act as if you’re not happy to see me.”

  
“I should make you sleep in the garage.”

Allistor gave him a confused look.

“Say that last word again.”

“Garage.”

He laughed, and clapped his brother on the back.

“You’ve gone full American, my god.”

Amelia sat on the couch downstairs, more confused than anything else at finally meeting any of her family. While she _ knew of _ her dad’s family, and the stories of mischief they caused as teens, she never imagined that she’d meet any of them.

Did she have cousins? Aunts? Grandparents that she’d never met?

What about her mom? Did she have any family?

“I need a drink.” She mumbled, standing from the couch and grabbing a random pair of shoes from the floor.

“Aye, I’m going to Ivan’s!” Amelia shouted up the stairs, making her way to the door once her dad acknowledged what she’d said.

“She looks like mum.” Allistor said to his brother once she slammed the front door shut, and he nodded in agreement.

“Always has, I’m glad she didn’t end up looking like Carmen.”

“What happened with her anyway?”

Arthur sighed as he hoisted a large suitcase onto the bed, and sat down next to it.

“She left when Meli were a year and a half.”

“Just got up and left?”

“Yep.”

Allistor shook his head, and patted his younger brother on the back.

“You could’ve come back mate, baby or not.”

“I wanted something better than Rochdale though.”

He laughed loudly.

“This is just like Rochdale, if not worse.”

  
  


“Yo! Open up!”

Ivan’s dad gave an unamused look as he opened the front door, but let her in anyway.

_ “Vanya! White trash is here!”_

Amelia smacked her lips at him, and glared over her shoulder.

“I understood that.”

_ “Good for you.” _ He said gruffly, stepping to the side when he saw his son coming.

Ivan met her in the hallway, and put an arm around her shoulders.

_ “Sorry dad, I didn’t know she was coming over.” _

He led his girlfriend into his room, and shut the door behind him.

“Mane, you gotta start giving some kinda warning before you come over.”

She shook her head, and laid out on his king sized bed.

“I just met my uncle for the first time.”

“Uncle? Ain’t all your family in England?”

She nodded into the pillow.

“I never thought I was gonna meet anyone.”

“Damn.”

“Damn is right, I needa get drunk before I can even _ think _ about this.”

“What about yo blood su-”

  
Amelia rolled her eyes.

“What about you mind yo own business? Shit’s 100% free.”

He mentally counted to ten, and rolled over to face her.

“I want you here as long as you can be, I care bout your health even if you don’t.”

She scoffed, but didn’t bring it up again.

  
  
  


“Now, we’ve set up a sting for the house on East 141st for tomorrow morning, okay? Is there anything that me or the team need to know before tomorrow?”

Te’Ron leaned back in the chair, and looked deep in thought.

“They next door neighbors, the Bonnefoys, they not involved in any criminal shit.”

“And the Bonnefoys own the duplex?”

He nodded, and Alfred wrote this down. 

“Do you know if Amelia Jones will be home?”

“Shit, probably, she ain’t got a job and her boys locked up.”

“We’ll let you know what comes of this tomorrow, as it’s probably not safe for you to be there.”

Te’Ron shook Alfred’s hand, and was dismissed from the office.

_ Get fucked Meli_. He smugly thought to himself as he walked out of the building, arrogant smirk painted on his face as he walked out to his car.

  
  


After Arthur had left for the day, Allistor was only half paying attention to the nature documentary playing as background noise when there was a knock at the door. 

He set his cup of tea down on the coffee table, and went to answer, only to see a SWAT team standing on the porch.

“Can I help you?” He asked hesitantly, not able to keep his eyes off the guns they were holding.

“We have a search warrant for this house, stand outside while we search.”

Not really having a choice, Allistor sat on the porch, handcuffed, next to an officer with a worryingly large gun. 

“Why are you here? I’ve been here less than a fuckin week to visit my brother, and you lot are searching his house?”

She gave him a sympathetic look, and leaned up against the house.

“There’s a warrant out for Amelia Jones’ arrest for drug trafficking, intent to distribute, and illegal weapons charges.”

He went white, and sat in silence as sounds of the house being turned upside down and the nature documentary droned on. 

“_And here we see, the lion always catches his prey.” _

“Have you seen her?”

Allistor shook his head and shivered as it began to snow.

“I haven’t seen her since I landed.”

Which was a lie, he had _ actually _heard her that morning when she argued with Arthur about not calling when she stayed overnight with her boyfriend. 

_ Not my business though _ he reasoned. 

  
  


He was finally let out of the handcuffs after the house had been thoroughly searched, and immediately called his brother once the SWAT team left.

“Yeah?”

Allistor clenched his jaw as he glared at the couch, which had been flipped upside down in the search.

“Were you planning on telling me about the house being raided?”

There was a heavy silence as Arthur processed this.

“Raided?”

“Yes, raided. Your fucking couch is upside down, and I’m sure the bedrooms are the same way.”

On the other end, Arthur sighed, and mumbled about killing Amelia under his breath.

“Right, I’ll see if I can leave, try to find Meli in the meantime.”

Allistor pulled his phone away from his ear and gave it a disgusted look.

“Mate, I don’t even know what street you live on.”

“It’s East 141st, go to the house across the street and ask if Tanisha has seen Cookie.”

He hung up, and pinched the bridge of his nose before grabbing both of his coats from the floor, after the closet by the front door had been ransacked. 

“Is Tanisha here?”

A large middle aged woman in her pajamas opened the door, and gave him an unimpressed glare.

“Govna if you don’t get yo ass on, and _ never _ dye your hair like that again.”

He did a double take, and put his foot in the door to keep her from closing it.

“I’m not Arthur, I’m his brother, have you seen Cookie by chance?”

Tanisha crossed her arms.

“He ain’t ever say shit bout having a brother, why you need to know where she at?” 

“Just tell me if you’ve seen her or not, fucks sake.”

She smacked her lips, and shut her screen door.

“I ain’t seen her, get out my house.”

  
  


Allistor shook his head as he walked back across the street, cursing the day he decided to reconnect with his brother.

  
  
  


“Amelia Fucking Jones, answer your phone, I know you’re ignoring me.”

Ivan gave an amused look over his shoulder as she played the voicemails from her dad, grabbing his boxers from the floor.

She groaned, and tossed her phone over by where he was sitting on the bed.

“Been a while since he change my middle name like that, I ain’t even do anything.”

He picked it up, and scrolled for a few seconds.

“There’s four more voicemails, the hell you do this time?”

Amelia shrugged, and glared when he laid his head between her bare breasts.

“I’m not doing shit til I find out why my dad calling my phone like that.”

He gave a pleading look.

“C’mon Meli, you looking real good.”

“Twice in a hour though? You tripping.”

She snatched the phone from him and called her dad back, swatting his lips away from her neck.

“Sorry I ain’t get your calls, I was sleep. ‘Sup?”

A lighter flicked on the other end, and she heard her dad sigh.

“Why the hell was our house raided this morning?”

Amelia paused.

“Raided?”

“Yeah, Allistor rang me, talking about some ‘why are the police here looking for Amelia?’”

She grimaced, and mouthed ‘I’m fucked’ to Ivan.

“Should I come home? Or what?”

“Get your ass home, _ now _. And get me some fags on your way back.”

Arthur hung up, and she was left staring at her phone in disbelief.

“Did he say ass instead of arse or did you hear that too?”

“He definitely said ass, no fakin’.” Ivan said in a similar state of shock, giving her a nervous expression.

“You better get on then, but lemme get a kiss ‘fore Govna kill you.”

Amelia scoffed and got off the bed, giving him the finger when he tried loosely grabbing at her butt.

“You too damn horny for hearing that my house just got raided, fuck outta here Ivan.”

The teen got dressed in a hurry and grabbed his ushanka from off his dresser, earning her a shout of ‘aye, bring that back!’ as she closed the door behind her. 

  
  


She got home in record time despite the fast falling snow, and ignored her uncle’s glare as she made her way into her room to find her 9mm and a shoebox full of cash gone.

“Fuck mane.” She mumbled to herself, pacing the room, which had been torn apart in the raid.

_ The attic still good though? _

Amelia was halfway up the ladder to the attic when her dad came through the front door, but ignored this, squeezing through the small door in the ceiling.

Fortunately for her, the attic seemed mostly untouched, and she found most of her stashed away money alongside Francis’ christmas decorations. 

“Amelia Jones, I know you’re up there!” Arthur shouted angrily from the bottom of the ladder, making her walk over to the opening and peer down.

“Fuck you using my government name for?” She yelled down, instantly regretting what she said when his face went bright red from anger.

“Get down here,_ now _.”

She obliged, and mentally said a prayer as she climbed down.

“Right, why was our house raided? Don’t even think of saying something cheeky, I’m this fucking close to hitting you right now.”

Arthur crossed his arms as she looked down at her feet, tapping his toes impatiently.

“I, uh, it’s probably cuz my boys locked up, and Te’Rat still tryna get me in jail.”

“You’re really blaming this on the informant you sold, then _ stole _ drugs from, not the government actually having a reason to go after you?”

She shrugged, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Your probation officer is blowing up my phone, and you need to deal with this yourself.”

“Can we wait a few days? I don’t wanna go to county yet.” Amelia mumbled, and her dad barely caught it.

Arthur looked up at the ceiling and sighed.

While he didn’t want his daughter potentially going to prison, he _ also _ didn’t want him or Francis to be counted as harboring a fugitive.

“We’ll talk about this when Francis gets home, yeah? Until then, don’t leave this house.”

Amelia, for once, was silent, and nodded.

“I don’t wanna go to jail dad, I’m scared.”

He wrapped her in a hug, and shook his head as his daughter held on tight.

_ Where did I go wrong with her? _

  
  
  


Francis’ phone rang the minute his free period began, and he groaned at the thought of what Arthur had probably needed to tell him for at least a couple hours now.

“Yeah?”

“My side got raided by the police looking for Amelia.” He said all in one word, and the older man sighed as he took his lunch box out of his desk.

“Are you surprised though? Her little goons are already locked up too, it was only a matter of time cher.”

“That’s not what I wanted to hear when my seventeen year old is on the verge of going to prison.” Arthur said hysterically, making Francis turn down the volume on his phone as he gave a defeated stare at the lunch packed for him.

“You need to stop packing me so damn much, you got Meli doing this or something?”

There was a pause on the other end.

“Is it obvious?”

“Very.”

  
“You’ll never get a lunch packed by her again if she gets locked up, you’ve got to help me here.”

He sighed as he pushed around the portion of stir fried meat and vegetables with his fork.

“This is between her and whatever law enforcement agencies she pissed off, you know that just as well as I do.”

Arthur hung up, and Francis chuckled to himself.

_ “Stubborn.” _

  
  


When he got pulled in the driveway at 3:30, he was mobbed by Arthur before he could even get out of his car.

“I can’t calm Amelia down, I need you.”

The older man’s lips set in a thin line, but he got out of the car anyway.

“Where’s she at?”

“Mattie’s room.”

Francis sighed, and climbed the stairs to his son’s bedroom.

He gently knocked on the door, and it opened beneath his fist.

_ “Amelia? Can I come in dove?”_

“I guess.”

He sat down next to where she was curled up on Matthew’s bed, and put a thin arm around her.

“I don’t wanna die in jail.” She said through tears, tears soaking the thick sweater Francis was wearing.

“You still have to at least talk to your probation officer, okay? Maybe there’s a way for you to not end up there cuz you’re not an adult.”

She shook her head, and sobbed harder.

“I’ll go with you, and won’t leave your side, okay? I promise, me or your dad won’t leave you.”

  
  


Half an hour later, Francis had finally convinced Amelia (and Arthur,as much as he didn’t want to admit it) to go to the probation office, so Amelia could turn herself in. He couldn’t carry through with his promises of staying with her, so he and Arthur sat anxiously for what felt like an eternity before he was called in.

“As Mr. Jones’ domestic partner, I should be allowed to come in as well, no?”

The receptionist begrudgingly let him come along as well, though she gave him a weirded out look over her shoulder. 

They watched Amelia on the other side of the glass as her probation breach regarding the illegal gun was explained to them, and that she would be on house arrest until a full investigation into her drug related charges was completed.

“As there are three others also under investigation in connection to this ,and the jail is seriously overcrowded, she will probably be needing this for at least a few months. I’ll explain the terms of the ankle monitor as we put it on her.”

Francis nodded and reassuringly squeezed Arthur’s hand, which shook under the chair.

“Are there any activities that _ absolutely _ require her to leave this half mile by half mile area?” The officer asked both of them, referring to a square drawn out in red sharpie on a print out of the streets surrounding their house.

Arthur shakily picked up the sheet of paper, and inspected the highlighted area. 

“This office, first of all, and her high school equivalency test is being held in the suburbs.”

“And when will that be?”

He furrowed his brow in thought as a heavy silence enveloped the three of them.

“April I believe.”

  
  


Amelia looked down in tearful disdain as the clunky black device was fastened onto her ankle, heavy as the hard band cut into the tender skin.

The assistant turned it on, and she was brought into another room with her dad, where they were both made to sign an agreement that the rules for her house arrest would not be broken. The three of them walked out into the snow in silence, the only sounds being Amelia sniffling and the clanking of the monitor around her ankle.

She cried silently in the backseat the entire way home, and both adults in the car were on the verge of tears as well, though for a different reason altogether.

After she’d gone in the house, Francis hugged Arthur tightly, catching him off guard.

“She isn’t going to jail for now, everything will be fine.”

“For now.” Arthur whispered, finally letting himself relax for the first time since seven that morning.

  
  
  
  


* * *

Notes: 

-Rochdale: has to do with the prologue rewrite, go fw that!

-County: county jail, kinda obvious but I have no idea what y’all do or don’t know

-Amelia’s worry about dying in jail: the county jail that serves Cleveland is notorious for overcrowding and people dying, just the way it is idk

Of course people stay joking about it, like every other shitty thing in this city


	13. My Bad, My Bad

Author’s note:

Thank you so much for all the love I’ve been getting recently on r/thisisstillamericaart! Y’all mean so much to me, and I appreciate every comment, kudo, and reddit message more than you know! On the subreddit, I created a chatroom, and also a flair for fanart, because I honestly love interacting with all of you :’)

After this chapter, I’ll be focusing on the prologue, so come join me there!!

* * *

Amelia sighed as her alarm to charge her ankle monitor went off, and grumbled to herself as she plugged it in and waited.

After 45 minutes it flashed green, and she put out her morning cigarette before unplugging it.

“Fuck this, least make the cord longer.” She mumbled as she went down the stairs, giving Allistor a halfhearted wave as he watched the Manchester match with his feet propped up.

“Hoe I eat my breakfast there, move yo fuckin feet.”

He gave her a disgusted look from the couch.

“Are you always like this?”

She nodded, and pushed his feet off the coffee table as she walked past.

“This still my house.”

“I thought Americans were supposed to be good hosts or something like that?”

Amelia scoffed, and put the kettle under the faucet.

“Not this one.”

“Not to be funny, right, but the way you talk to me is just-”

“Shocking? God you sound like my dad.”

  
  


She shook her head as she took an english muffin out of the pack on the counter, and put it in the toaster.

“How long you ‘posed to be here? My dad said a couple days and it been almost two weeks, you moving in or some shit?”

He made a sour look in her direction as he muted a commercial.

“I’d go mad if I had to live here.”

“How do you know I’m not already mad, aye?” She said in a crude imitation of his accent, laughing obnoxiously when he glared at her.

“You’re all of his worst traits, my god.” He mumbled, shaking his head and unmuting the tv when the game came back on. 

“‘Scuse me? I don’t think I heard that.” Amelia said with her jaw set, coming back into the living room and crossing her arms.

“Nothing, just eat your breakfast.”

  
  


Essentially restricted to the porch, the corner store, and Ivan’s house, Amelia got bored quickly.

An unexpected letter from Abel lifted her mood though.

_ aye meli! how you doin! _

_ vermont cold as a mf, even worse than cle. _

_ ivan lil family lawyer been calling, and shit aint lookin good. sound like they caught you and you on that lil house arrest til everything get solved, which sound like ass on god. _

_ you heard from bullshit or foreign? i aint seen either of em since we got caught, but i no bullshit back in ec. _

_ (make sure this adress get to titi so she can write me. we was fuckin for a minute fo i got caught) _

She rolled her eyes when she read this part, knowing that ‘TiTi’ couldn’t care less about him now that he was locked up.

  
  


_ get mattie to bring you bullshit atv, it at chyna house. _

Bullshit’s ATV?

Amelia smiled widely at this, knowing that she was finally allowed to ride Gil’s prized possession.

While her best friend being locked up sucked, being able to ride his atv while he was in there made it suck a _ little _ bit less.

  
  


She didn’t even bother reading the rest of the letter, instead going out and seeing if she could get to Chyna’s house without her monitor beeping.

Much to her chagrin, it started beeping a street away from the house. 

_ Maybe she can bring it to me? _ She thought as she pulled out her phone to call her.

  
  


“Aye Chy, you home? Bullshit told me I could have his lil atv, and it’s outside my bracelet.”

“Girl, I’m on my way to math class, wait til school end.”

She hung up, and Amelia smacked her lips. 

_ Maybe some my boys at the store. _She thought to herself as she walked away, shoving her hands deep into her pockets.

  
  
  


On the other side of the city, Matthew waited patiently in the jail visitation room, smiling widely when a familiar head of white hair came to the booth.

“You lookin good, you been working out?”

Gil laughed, and flexed his bicep.

“Man I’m locked up, ain’t shit else to do.”

Matthew propped his head up with one hand as his face flushed.

“I ever said how cute you are Mattie? I miss you so bad.”

“More than Meli and your own cousin? Damn baby.”

He picked at his orange jumpsuit, and looked lovingly at his visitor.

“You told yo dad bout us yet?”

“He still call you one Meli’s hoodrat friends, probably not a great idea.”

He looked surprisingly hurt by this.

“Gilbird doing good though! I’ve been tryna teach him how to sing along to ‘Hate Bein’ Sober’, and he don’t bite my dad anymore.”

Gil smiled widely at hearing about his bird learning one of his favorite songs.

“You a good bird dad, for real for real.”

“I’m really not, just doin my job _ mon coeur _.”

The teen put a hand over his face as he blushed bright red.

“You too fuckin cute when you talk all that in French, god.”

  
  


After a while of awkward small talk, Gil scratched the back of his neck, and made a face.

“Oh yeah, it look like I’ma be here for a lot longer than I thought, so you need more money for Gilbird?”

Matthew sighed, and gave him a sad look.

“I guess I do, but I rather have you, I love you more than that lil cockatoo.”

“Cockatiel, he’s a cockatiel Mattie.”

“My bad, my bad.”

  
  


“Visitation is over, all inmates return to your pods.”

They both sighed and hung up the phones, Gil’s face regretful as he waved goodbye.

  
  
  
  


Arthur got off work soon after 3, and made a face when he saw the last envelope in his mail.

_ Ohio department of corrections? This should be good. _

He ripped the envelope open with the jagged edge of his fingernail, and furrowed his brows when he saw what was inside.

_ Oh hell no _.

Letter in hand, he stormed up to Amelia’s room, and knocked on the door.

“She’s not home mate!” Allistor shouted from the couch, and he groaned.

“Shouldn’t house arrest keep her at home?”

“You would think.”

  
  
  


Amelia fist bumped one of the people hanging around outside the corner store, and accepted a cigarette from one of them.

“You looking dumb as hell in that lil ankle bracelet MiMi, look at that!” The guy next to her laughed, making the others laugh as well.

“I ain’t going to no jail though! I’ma tell y’all that!” She said jokingly, lightly punching him in the shoulder before reaching for the lighter she usually kept in the pocket of her spiked jacket.

Instead, her phone started ringing, and she rolled her eyes when she saw that it was her dad. 

“Yeah?”

“Int house arrest supposed to keep you at home Meli?”

She waved goodbye to the group in front of the store, and started walking toward home.

“I just be bored in that house, what’s up?”

“That’s not an excuse, first off, you have your uncle there, and- god, why am I explaining this? Just get back here.”

“Yeah, whatever, I’m on my way back now.”

  
  


Amelia came through the door, and was greeted by her dad standing in the kitchen with his arms crossed.

“That little bracelet of yours cost 450 dollars, and it’s 5 a day, not even talking about veg.”

“Ooh you got bars.” She said with a laugh, and pulled her wallet out of her white Louis Vuitton purse.

“How much you want? I’m guessing you want me to pay for it, since you called me.”

  
  


Annoyed by her arrogant attitude, Arthur took the wallet from her, and took out the money that he owed the court.

“You’re not still selling, right?”

She shook her head, and pursed her lips as her dad looked through her wallet, even after he took the needed cash out.

“Oh look, a McDonald’s receipt from last week, when you have no fucking business being there because of your blood sugar, do you ever listen to a _ word _ I say?”

“I fucked up, okay? I just fucked up dad, that’s it.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, but I need 35 a week from you, cos I will not pay it, period.”

“That’s 5 too high, I know you not tryna rip me off.”

“I can’t be arsed with you right now, and put that in your calculator if you think I’m trying to rip you off of something _ you _ owe.” 

  
  
  


Amelia scoffed, and walked off after hearing her phone buzz, letting her know that Chyna was outside.

Her dad stormed angrily after her, but froze when he saw one of his daughter’s friends doing donuts in the street with a bright blue atv.

“Oh my days.” He mumbled, the sound of the engine vividly bringing him back to his days on a Manchester housing estate, where people tore down side streets and alleyways on them.

Chyna parked it in the driveway, and handed Amelia the keys and the helmet.

“You can’t be serious.”

She smiled smugly, and fist bumped her friend.

“Deadass.”

  
  


He pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed.

“Why on earth are you bringing this shit around when you have an ankle monitor? Are you stupid?”

  
  


“I got one brain cell and she tryna have a good time!” Amelia said with a loud laugh, giving Chyna a high five.

“Get inside, _ now _.”

She smacked her lips, but still followed him inside.

  
  


“Are you trying to piss me off today Amelia? Cos you’re doing a damn good job at it.” Arthur said with a cigarette between his teeth as he pulled out his lighter, giving her a disgusted look as she sat down at the kitchen table, smug as ever.

“I’m just making the best of this lil bracelet I got here, problem?”

She gestured for him to hand her a cigarette, and he angrily shoved the carton back in his pocket.

  
  


“I’ve been to hell and back with you, you realize that? There’s always _ something _ new with you.”

He took a drag, and looked into space for a second, before turning his attention back to his daughter.

“Like, oh! I’ll just get a DUI in a stolen car at fourteen! And then a tattoo and a gun at fifteen, and did I mention that I’m dropping out of school too? But that’s all well and good cos ‘I’ma do me’.”

  
  
  


Arthur’s ragged breathing was interrupted by his brother coming into the kitchen, and crossing his arms.

“Will both of you _ shut up _? You lot have done nothing but do my head in since I got here, and I’m sick of it! You raised a criminal Artie, yeah? End of, mum did the same with us, I don’t know why you expected that to change because you moved to America and knocked someone up.”

He leaned up against the counter, and shook his head.

“Not only did you knock someone up, you had a kid and suddenly became some kind of fairy? Did your little girlfriend hurt you that bad?” Allistor said in a mocking tone, not noticing Amelia’s eyes narrowing.

  
  


She stood up, and got in his face, despite their height difference.

“Whatchu say bout my dad? Whatchu say?”

He seemed too shocked to react as the teen pushed him backwards.

  
  


Her dad saw the violent glint in her eyes, and it terrified him as she grabbed a man more than twice her age by the collar of his track jacket.

  
  


“Get off of him! Go outside, and cool down, _ now _.” Arthur screamed out, his limbs seeming glued to the ground as he made his way to where they were in each other’s faces, both red from anger.

He forcibly tore Amelia off her uncle, and pointed to the front door. Always needing the last word, she gave him the finger with both hands before slamming the door behind her.

  
  
  


“What the hell was that?” Allistor said shakily after the door slammed, and his younger brother defeatedly shrugged.

  
  


“I told you that she had problems with anger mate, and you laughed it off.” 

  
  


“That’s not anger issues, that’s a proper psychopath you fucking fairy.”

He gave a disgusted look at the tiled floor, and shook his head.

“I actually need to just go, staying in American Rochdale, and my niece being psycho, I can’t do this.” 

  
  


“Then get the fuck out!” Amelia shouted from the other side of the door, making Arthur roll his eyes. 

Despite the events of the past couple minutes, he felt a strange sense of pride in the fact that his daughter was so fiercely protective of him.

But also scared of what her future held if she handled _ other _ conflicts the way she handled Allistor.

  
  
  


Irritated beyond reason at the situation at her house, Amelia knocked on Francis’ door, impatiently tapping her socked toes on the wood porch as she waited for an answer.

Matthew opened the door, and gave an amused look over his shoulder as she followed him in.

“What you looking at me like that for hoe? Don’t start none that shit with me.”

  
  


He ignored her, and went back up to his room.

  
  
  


“Sup Francis?” She said as she plopped down in the chair next to him, not caring that she was disrupting what he was grading. 

  
  


_ “Can it wait a couple minutes dove? I’m busy.” _

  
  


“No, it can’t.”

  
  


He adjusted his reading glasses, unamused.

“Did Arthur kick you out? I’m not getting between y’all again.”

  
  


“Sorta kinda? I pushed his asshole of a brother and he told me to go outside.”

  
  


He shook his head as he wrote a grade at the top of a test, and set it to the side.

“You can’t just keep going round fighting people, especially grown men.”

  
  


“He weren’t acting grown though.” She mumbled, and Francis could almost hear a hint of Arthur’s Mancunian accent. 

  
  


“I just don’t want you getting hurt, _ or _you ending up in jail for real if somebody press charges.”

  
  


“Whatever, I’m just not tryna be ‘round that fuckin leprechaun.” 

He snickered, and took an apple slice from the plate beside him.

“A leprechaun? That’s just mean.”

  
  


“He out here calling my dad a fairy cuz y’all dating, and I ain’t playing that! That my dad right there, I don’t care who you is, I’ma defend him.”

She paused.

“He always say ‘it’s us against the world’, and I live by that.”

  
  


“He called Arthur a fairy?”

  
  


Amelia nodded, and gritted her teeth as she reached to grab a piece of fruit off the plate.

“It’s got me fucked all the way up, he lucky that my 9mm got taken.”

  
  


_ Am I even surprised? _

  
  


“You can’t solve your problems with a gun Meli.”

  
  


“Don’t mean I can’t try.”

She got up from the table, and popped a grape in her mouth before walking out the front door with a determined look on her face.

  
  
  
  


The teen stepped back into her own house, feeling invincible.

“Yo Allistor! Where you at?”

  
  


“Don’t do anything stupid.” Her dad warned from the porch, which she ignored.

  
  



	14. Guilty conscience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm back!

**it’s been a long time since I updated this story, so you might wanna reread the last couple chapters for context! **

**I’ve decided to go ahead without a beta, since I had the rest of the plot planned for this and the prequel prior to everything. I’m sorry if the feel of the writing changes any as a result, we’re in this together though! I love all of you for sticking by me and your support for my writing, I can’t thank y’all enough :)**

**And, by popular demand, a version of this from Mattie's point of view is in the works!**

* * *

“Get yo ass over here!”

Allistor sighed heavily as she stormed into the living room,her face red from anger.

  
  


“What? Can we handle this like adults Meli?”

She shook her head, and crossed her arms.

“You ain’t bout to disrespect my dad and act like that’s okay.”

  
  


He propped his head up with his hand, and gave her an amused look.

“I weren’t expecting you to be so, well, protective of him.”

“So?” She questioned, cocking her head, and shifting her weight to her left foot.   
  


Her uncle shrugged, not about to back down either.

“Not a problem, you’re just...aggressive.” 

The teen gave a look of disgust as she plopped down on the loveseat across from him.

“You piss me off in ways I real life can’t even explain, I don’t care who you are.”

He sighed, and regretted ever reaching out to his brother as he stared at his niece, red faced and smug sitting a few feet away.

“Then leave me be, please.”

“Fuck you.”

Allistor shook his head, and went upstairs, slamming the door of the guestroom behind him.

“I can’t do this anymore.” He said angrily to himself as he stared at the faded union jack tapestry that hung crookedly on the wall, reminding him of where he grossly overpaid to leave.

He had no idea how much time had passed when he heard a knock at the door, and broke the trance he’d fallen into while staring at the wall.

“Allistor? It’s me.”

“Come in.” He mumbled, laying back on the bed as his baby brother came in, and shut the door behind him.

“So,uh,” Arthur said awkwardly as he leaned against the door, not really knowing what to say, “I’m sorry about how Meli’s treated you, she’s not normally like this, I think it’s the stress of house arre-“

“Please, just  _ stop _ ,” he sat up, and gave an exasperated look, “stop defending her being awful, I’m fucking sick of it.”

His host stiffened.

“I weren’t defending her, I’m just-”

“Defending her shit behavior. I know what I’m seeing mate, and that’s a spoilt criminal, whether you can see it or not.” Allistor said through gritted teeth as he got up off the bed.

“I know what it is to be a good parent, and it’s not you.”

“It’s not me, eh?  _ I’m  _ the one who stepped up to take care of her after her mum walked out on me, you can’t even see your kids but twice a month is it?” Arthur said angrily, regretting what he said the second it came out of his mouth.

“You crossed a line, you know I had no control over that. I were a proper good parent before my divorce, unlike you. I would kill myself if either of my kids end up like Amelia have.”

His host stiffened, and they both looked at each other for a tense couple of seconds.

  
  


“I don’t want you in my house if you’re gonna talk about me and me daughter like that.”

The redhead nodded defeatedly, and laid back on the bed.

“I’ll buy my tickets tonight.”

“Good.” 

  
  
  


  
  


  
  
  


“I’m leaving tomorrow, I can’t stay here any longer.” Allistor announced after Francis and Matthew had left for the night, earning him an eye roll from Amelia as she lit a cigarette.

“Woow, how inspiring.” She said sarcastically through the cigarette between her teeth.

“Piss off, you’re most of the reason why.” He sneered over his shoulder as he went up the stairs.

“I’m glad, you done nothing but act a ass since you got here.”

He was wrong in expecting  _ any _ form of regret or an apology from her, only making him more irritated with the situation as a whole. Especially her.

_ Arthur’s raised a monster. _

  
  
  


_ Who lets their child smoke that much? And get that fat?  _ He thought angrily as he shoved clothes into his suitcase, conveniently forgetting that his mum was fine with him and his siblings starting much younger than Amelia. 

_ I’ve never met such awful people. _

He spent the remainder of the night in the guestroom, thinking back to how he ended up  _ here.  _ In a shit neighborhood in America, at the house of the brother he liked the least.

_ I actually can’t believe I’m staying with America’s answer to Vicky Pollard and a washed up punk. _

  
  
  


The next morning, he left for a motel, internally deciding that it was better to overpay then to stay in that dysfunctional and chaotic environment. Though his flight home was scheduled for three days later, he still felt that brooding in a motel room was better than staying with his younger brother.

_ Loads better _ he thought as he looked out his balcony to his view of the lake that Arthur had taken him to see on his second day there, the cold wind nipping at his nose.  _ And now away from them. _

  
  
  
  


After the lecture turned screaming match she got the morning her uncle left, Amelia wished she could join him, wherever he was. Staying with Francis wasn’t exactly an option either, as her dad had barred her from going there to avoid the consequences of driving her uncle out. But it wasn’t her fault that he was an asshole, right? Right? 

Despite driving him away, she still believed that she was one hundred percent in the right, as she always did after instigating some kind of confrontation. Well, maybe like ninety percent in the right this time.  _ Maybe.  _

  
  


Spending the whole day alone with her thoughts wasn’t what she had planned for her day, as she rewatched Shameless for the third time, not  _ really  _ paying attention. Eventually, she had zoned out completely, the only thing on her mind being what all led up to Allistor leaving. The more she thought about it, the more she started feeling an almost unknown feeling to her; guilt.

Guilt was a dirty, unfamiliar feeling for someone with an ego the size of Amelia’s, and it made her uncomfortable enough to turn the tv off. Whether she admitted it or not to Arthur, she shed quite a few tears over it, and her role in driving him out.

Eventually, she decided to text her dad.

_ lemme get allistor number _

_ If you give him more abuse, it’ll be the last thing you do, ffs. _

She rolled her eyes at the response, but did still get her uncle’s number in the end. The line rang three times, and she considered giving up on this entirely.

“Who is this?”

Amelia took a shaky deep breath, deciding it was now or never.

“Meli.”

“Why the hell would you call me? Haven’t you done enough?” He said with irritation heavy in his voice as he laid down on the bed, half considering saying a prayer before engaging with her.

“Well...that’s why I’m calling you.”

Allistor’s eyebrows raised upon hearing this.

“Are you actually serious? Or have your dad made you do this?”

Despite him not being able to see her, she shook her head.

“No, he don’t even know why I asked for your number. I, uh,” she swallowed, feeling as if she would vomit from nerves, “was tryna apologize for how I treated you. I ain’t realize you just got divorced and that’s why you came here. I mean, you still a asshole, but so am I, I guess.”

The line went silent as he tried processing what was just said. She’s apologizing? Being called an asshole  _ again _ aside, this was the last thing he ever expected her to do. Coming to where he was staying to fight him again seemed more plausible for her. But an apology? Completely out of left field.

“I- I weren’t expecting this from you, to be honest.”

“I know you wasn’t, my dad probably wouldn’t either. But I said what I said, and you talking crazy ‘bout my dad dating a man just not gonna fly. Francis basically been my other parent my whole life, and I love him like he was, period.”

“Right, I, well, I’m sorry for what I said about your dad in the heat of the moment, it were just shocking to me, cos I never imagined him being gay.”

On the other end, Amelia smacked her lips, which her uncle found to be the most annoying sound on the planet.

“Don’t matter, they been dating for like, fifteen years, and they  _ happy _ . Leave ‘em alone. Bye.” 

The line disconnected, and he sat there angrily for god knows how long, sulking. 

_ At least you’re leaving this hellhole soon _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Once the chaos of having Allistor there passed, life at the duplex returned mostly back to normal. 

With the exception of Amelia. 

Something about her rare moment of maturity with her uncle struck a nerve, and she seemed determined to do better with herself. Waking up at eleven instead of three in the afternoon, cooking low carb meals for herself without too much of a fight, and an overall want to make herself useful. She stopped throwing out her chore lists every morning, and tried to avoid smoking in the house...sometimes.

  
  


The newfound stability proved helpful to Francis’ recovery, with less stress at mealtimes, and a more relaxed atmosphere overall.

In a challenge from his therapist, he was encouraged to begin cooking his own dinners for him and Matthew twice a week, which both terrified and excited him. 

And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Arthur missed having him there when he got home from work every day, as he basically overhauled his work schedule to help him. Even if that meant making less.

“You missing your boo?” Amelia joked on the first night without him there, watching as her dad dejectedly picked at his food.

“Yeah, guess I am.”

She looked genuinely surprised at him admitting it, and not joking back like he normally would’ve.

“Y’know, y’all could probably still link after dinner, his therapist ain’t say shit about being together.”

He nodded, giving her a glare when she went to reach for another piece of bread.

“Think of yo-”

“My blood sugar? Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m grown, I know what I’m doing.”

  
  
  


The rest of their dinner was silent until Arthur put his plate in the sink, and immediately grabbed his shoes.

“You going out for a fag or to see your mans?” Amelia shouted after him with a grin, laughing when he gave her a look that said ‘what do you think’.

  
  


He knocked next door, and was greeted with a tight hug.

“I was just gonna come over there,” Francis said into his boyfriend’s shoulder, “I missed you.”

“I-I missed you too.” 

Whether either of them admitted it, their families had gotten used to eating dinner together the past few months.

They sat together on the front porch as Arthur lit his first after dinner cigarette, comfortable in each other’s company despite the cold night.

“I like feeling like a family.” Francis said quietly, and the man next to him nodded in agreement.

“I do too.”

“I, well,” the older man trailed off, not really knowing how to word what he wanted to ask, “would you wanna start sharing a bed? More than an occasional thing? We’ve know-”

“I’d love to,” he leaned in as he put out a cigarette with his boots, “how does tomorrow night sound?”

  
  
  
  


In an elated mood, Arthur decided to celebrate in the best way he knew how that didn’t involve showing up to work hungover.

“Meli, I’m dying my hair tonight, do you want yours done too love?” He shouted from the bathroom as he pulled out the basket of hair dye, smiling widely when he saw that there was still bleach and developer inside.

She looked up from the Playstation.

“I thought your job ain’t allow unnatural colors?”

“Blond is a natural colour, int it?” Arthur said jokingly as he walked to the top of the stairs, making her laugh.

  
  
  


“You better not be doing a mohawk again dad, I swear to god.” Amelia said with a disgusted look on her face as she watched him use the electric shaver on the sides of his head, the choppy brown hair falling on the tiled floor.

“I’m too old to be doing that, you know that by now.” He said sarcastically, and motioned for the bowl of bleach and developer that she was stirring. 

“Right, you remember how to do the foils? Last time I had Mattie do it, it looked awful.”

“That’s why you don’t have him do it, the hell was you thinking dude?” 

Arthur made a dismissive motion with his hand, and handed his daughter the pack of foils they kept in the bathroom specifically for this.

  
  
  


“You in a real good mood, huh? You been smiling the whole time.”

His cheeks flushed pink.

“I, erm, Francis asked if I wanted to start sleeping in his bed more often, and I said yes.”

“As long as y’all not loud, I think it’s great.” Amelia said with a shrug as she brushed bleach onto a section of hair.

“It’s not, god, just a sexual thing Amelia, we’ve been dating since you were a toddler.”

He shook his head to the best of his ability while his hair was wrapped in foil.

“Most people’s parents haven’t even been  _ married _ as long as we’ve dated, we have every right to share a bedroom.”

She jokingly put her hands in a surrender pose.

“My bad, my bad, I ain’t realize you was that passionate ‘bout it.”

“The cheek of you, how much hair is left?”

“One more section, what you think I should do on mine?” Amelia asked as she handed him a hand mirror so he could get a better look at her work.

“Red and purples look good cos you’re dark, pink would too.”

She gave a curious look in the bathroom mirror, and ran a hand through her artificially blonde curls.

“Maybe hot pink? Like have half my head be pink, and the other half be normal color.”

“That would look well nice, and your hair is already pretty light.”

  
  
  


Despite needing to be up at four the next morning for work, Arthur stayed up until midnight dying his and his daughter’s hair. 

He sighed as he plugged in the blowdryer, and paused the music playing from his phone.

“You owe me money for a McDonald’s breakfast tomorrow, making me stay up this late.”

Amelia shrugged, and shouted over the sound of the dryer.

“You the one that asked if I wanted my hair did.”

“I know, I know, but you have such thick hair, just like your mum.”

  
  
  


“Right,” he yawned, and unplugged the hairdryer half an hour later, “remember to start watching your sugars better, you’ve been spiking lately.”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it dad.”

“Cheeky.” Arthur mumbled as he gave her a hug good night, and went into his room for the night, already knowing that he was gonna suffer at work the next day on so little sleep. 

_ But for bonding with Amelia like that? _ He smiled.  _ Priceless. _

  
  


_ Would her mum be proud of who her daughter has become? Or have she forgotten about us both? _

  
  
  
  
  
  


She hadn’t.

Though now with a young family of her own in a wealthy suburb half an hour away, her punk days long behind her. She never forgot about Amelia or Arthur, despite her bitterness about how things ended between them sixteen years ago.

Did she miss their miserable lifestyle in that awful apartment? Not in the slightest. But did she wish that she had a relationship with her firstborn? Absolutely.

After her son started kindergarten a few months prior, she began thinking more and more often about Amelia, the child she essentially abandoned. Did her ex still live hand to mouth in a crumbling part of the city?

She grimaced as she thought about Arthur, pulling the covers closer to her body as her husband snored on the other side of the king sized bed. 

“Hey,Danny?”

He rolled over with a grunt, and opened his eyes.

“Yeah?”

Carmen sighed, before turning to face him, only his silhouette visible in the dim light from the window.

“I were thinking about Amelia again.”

“Damn, again?” he mumbled as he propped himself up with his elbow, “She’s been on your mind a lot huh? They say when you think of somebody a lot, you’re on their mind too.”

“It’s probably Arthur.” She said in an attempt at a laugh, falling silent as the guilt from memories of her and the father of her first child overwhelmed her.

“Car? Hey, you’re okay, did you take your meds?”

She nodded dejectedly, barely registering the tear that ran down her cheek.

“Does she even know I exist? Like, have her dad ever told her about me?”

He was torn between whether it would hurt to hear that he’d probably gotten married by now, or if he should pacify her by saying that her ex had never gotten over her.

_ Appeal to her vanity, or be truthful? _

Instead, he stayed silent, a sharp contrast to what he would’ve normally done, not willing to deal with an emotional fallout at three in the morning. Carmen’s depressive episodes were always a worry, which he didn’t love her any less for, but in the back of his mind, he was acutely aware of her recklessness when her mental health took a turn for the worst. 

“Maybe you could reconnect with her when she turns eighteen, huh? It’ll be better that way, cuz she’ll be an adult, and more mature.”

She wordlessly nodded, scooting closer to her husband before laying her head against his chest.

“Thanks baby, I love you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Dad, you sure you sure I can’t go to Ivan place? It’s been forever since I seen him.”

Arthur rolled his eyes as he poured half and half into his thermos of tea.

“It’s been three days love, not  _ forever _ ,” he shook his head a bit as he twisted the cap back onto the carton, “that and you’re still on house arrest, if you so happened to forget.”   
  


She smacked her lips, and shook her right leg for emphasis as the clunky device hit the leg of the table with a solid thud.

“You really thought I forgot?”

“If you clean our side of the basement and spare room today, I’ll consider letting him back here.” he took a sip, and glanced at his daughter over the rim, “if I find either of you shirtless, he’s not coming back.”

“Fine.” She mumbled as she absentmindedly stirred the oatmeal in her bowl, finding it, frankly, unappealing as hell. “I miss cereal that actually taste like something.”

“I know, but this is for your health, you know that as well as I do.”

Amelia nodded, and made a face at the bowl as she covered a blueberry with the hot beige mush, on the verge of losing her appetite completely.

  
  
  


After her dad had left for work, she had an idea.

_ Why not have Ivan help me clean? Ain’t shit else to do. _

  
  


“Hey babe, you tryna come over today?” She asked hopefully as she hopped up on the kitchen counter, her phone wedged between her ear and the shoulder of one of Mattie’s sweatshirts.

Her boyfriend grumbled on the other end, before yawning loudly.

“Meli, it’s seven thirty, if you don’t get your ass on somewhere.”

“I know, I know, I just woke up real early today. You still wanna come through though?”

“Sure, just lemme sleep.” Ivan said sleepily, hanging up, and throwing his phone to the other side of his bed.

A few hours later, he pulled into her garage, still basically half asleep, but hoping for an opportunity for a nap.

“Man, you cute as hell when you sleepy.” His girlfriend said jokingly as she wrapped her arms around him, the top of her head barely reaching his chest.

“Your hair is pink?”

She ruffled it with one hand, and smiled.

“You like it?”

He nodded, and kicked his shoes off before laying down on her couch, and letting her join him.

“You should dye the other side blue like Harley Quinn, that’d be raw as hell.”

“You tryna dye yours like the joker? We gotta do it together babe.”

Ivan laughed, and shook his head.

“Over your dead body.”

* * *

Danny- nyo Hungary


	15. TISA Anniversary

Hey! The one year anniversary of starting this fic coming up in a few days (September 15th) and I wanted to give back to the people who made the continuation of this fic possible; my readers! Y'all have been so good to me, and I fr never thought anybody would read this. You've all been so supportive, and it mean the world to me.

SO! I'm gonna hold a poll on r/thisisstillamericaart for what we should do on the b-day of this fic :) An update will be posted on the 15th as well, updating has been hard because I'm working full time now, but I'm determined! I love all of you and what your feedback has done for this story, I can't thank you enough.

(https://www.reddit.com/r/thisisstillamericaart/comments/irhk6p/tisa_birthday_party/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3)


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